The Connection
by Out-Of-Control-Authoress
Summary: There is a rule between a yami and its hikari - a connection must exist. Despite what Ryou Bakura thinks, he and the Spirit of the Ring are no exception to this rule. They just need to discover it.
1. Just Bad Luck

This is a sort of prelude to No Strings Attached, detailing the reasons why Bakura and Ryou became so close from the Battle City Tournament of the anime to the timeline of my fic (which takes place shortly after B. City). It explores the deep connection that grows between Ryou and Bakura - thus, the title of this fic.

This one has nothing to do with the Harry Potter universe. It's a prelude - and they don't get introduced to the magical world of Britain until NSA. Remember that!

Also, this fic won't be long. I don't intend for it to exceed eleven or so chapters.

NOTE: This is not RyouxOC. There are OC characters present, but there isn't any RyouxOC. Or BakuraxOC.

Summary: There is a rule between a yami and its hikari - a connection must exist. Despite what Ryou Bakura thinks, he and the Spirit of the Ring are no exception to this rule. They just need to discover it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

_General Thoughts_

_- Ryou to Bakura -_

_"Bakura to Ryou"_

Chapter One

Just Bad Luck

"Bakura. Oi, Bakura. Oi!"

Ryou jumped in his seat, startled by the sudden vocal intrusion. He blinked sleep out of his eyes, focusing on the young, blonde-haired girl waving her hand in his face.

"Ayumi...?" he asked, his voice heavy with tiredness. Why was Ayumi in his room? And why did his bed feel unusually like a desk...?

Ah. Because he was at school, and not in his bedroom. Well then.

The girl crossed her arms. "Jeez, Bakura, you could try staying awake for a full period, once in a while," she chastised.

Ryou sighed, rubbing his eyes to fully wake himself up. "Sorry, Ayumi," he apologized sincerely. It was always Ayumi who woke him up, always chastised him, tried to push him to do better in school and to pay attention more.

She was, probably, the closest friend that he had outside of Yugi and his group. He'd never tell her, though. It wasn't that she wouldn't be delighted at the title, it was just that he refused to let that familiarity come between them.

Yugi was just like him - that was why Yugi could become so close with him. Still, though, with all of that group, Ryou could never become truly close. They would always see the Spirit of the Ring inside of him. They would never see only Ryou, see Ryou and the Spirit as separate entities. They saw two sides of the same coin, not two different coins. And that hurt Ryou, more than anything.

Which was why he avoided them as much as possible, no matter how hard Yugi pushed to become friends. Ryou just couldn't handle seeing that fear in the back of their gazes. Even Yugi looked at him that way, though Ryou was fairly sure that the kind-hearted young man was unaware of the fact.

"Although," Ayumi continued, "I should be glad that you're here at all." She glared at him sharply, accusingly.

Ryou was often truant from school. Meaning the Spirit, taking over his body, had no interest in a proper education. It gave Ryou a bad track record, one that he'd often have to cover up with notes for fake sicknesses and forged signatures.

His eyes trailed up to Ayumi, who was still glaring at him in that way that said "I'm disappointed in you".

Ryou winced.

She broke out into a grin, "but I guess I can't lecture you. I'm not your...your dad." To her credit, she smiled right through her almost-stumble. She almost said "mom".

Most girls _would_ have said "mom", but everyone was acutely aware of the fact that Ryou's mother and sister had been killed years ago, in a devastating accident that Ryou and his father had barely escaped from. Ryou had gotten away without even a scar. His father bore some scars on his chest, as he'd been the driver.

Ryou's mother and sister hadn't gotten away at all. Their loss was something that he'd never overcome. He'd never healed. He'd probably never get past it. He never would.

Everyone at the school was very careful to sidestep around any mention of a "mother" or "sister" to Ryou. Even though this wasn't the town he'd been born in, they knew. It made him something fragile, to most of them. His first few weeks there, a bully had asked him if he was going to go home and cry to mommy.

It was the only time that Ryou himself had ever hurt someone. It was the first time that the Spirit hadn't been responsible.

He'd quickly been labelled a freak, a danger, and the rumours from his last school had somehow trickled to Domino along with him. Kids shunned him even more, after they heard the stories. The kids that'd vanished out of nowhere, days after trying to become friends with him. Or after bullying him.

So students, even some teachers, shied away from him without undue haste. Bullies just pretended that he didn't exist. They didn't dare make him their target, for fear of disappearing forever. Other kids didn't speak to him. They were even afraid to bump him in the hallway, or sit beside him in class. He was always alone.

Ryou didn't mind it much. He often felt it better that way. In fact, when someone was bold enough to attempt befriending him, he attempted to push them away.

Some, such as Yugi and Ayumi, were extremely persistent. Getting them to hate him like everyone else was an impossible task. Though the fear was there with Yugi, he still fought against the instinct. The effort was nice, but Ryou would have rather been without.

And Ayumi...

"Ne, Ryou, you space out a lot," she commented, propping her elbows up on his desk and placing her chin in her open palms, "did you know that?" she cocked her head, grinning cheekily.

Ryou stood up, his chair scratching against the ground as he pushed it back. He picked his textbook up, letting out an unwanted yawn. Without a word to her, he made to leave the classroom.

Ayumi caught up to him in the hallway. "You really ought to get more sleep, Bakura," she told him.

Ah. So it was going to be the usual berating, then. In response, he replied with his usual noncommittal answers.

"Most likely."

"And turn your homework in."

"I'll try."

"And not doze off in class."

"My mistake."

"And come to school consistently."

"Should I find time."

"And remember to wear pants next time."

Ryou jumped in shock, his head snapping down to his legs, which were covered by his usual, blue uniform pants. He looked back up at Ayumi, who was grinning at him.

"So you _were_ paying attention," she said cheekily, reminding Ryou very unfortunately of Malik Ishtar. "That's good."

Ryou suppressed the desire to roll his eyes, and resigned himself to the fact that brushing her off was going to be impossible. Ayumi was more persistent than Yugi - which was a feat in of itself.

"Are you always so cool with me because you think I'm coming on to you, or something?" Ayumi asked him, nudging him with her elbow.

Ryou stopped at his locker, putting his textbook inside. It was warm outside, so he wouldn't be needing the sweater that he kept in his locker. He pulled out his outdoor shoes and slipped his indoor shoes into his locker.

"No," he answered after a moment or so, "I don't think that."

"Good, because I have a boyfriend. We love each other very much."

Ayumi had a boyfriend who lived in Tokyo. He'd moved away the past summer, when his father's company transferred him. He could remember quite clearly how torn up she'd been after he'd moved. She'd had trouble adjusting to school without him. They'd been dating for as long as he'd been at the school. He wasn't sure of the exact track record, though. It didn't really interest him, either.

The two of them had impressed him, however, with their perseverance. Their relationship hadn't suffered a bit, after his move. He visited her every holiday or weekend that he possibly could.

"I am aware," Ryou replied, smiling slightly.

Ayumi pouted at his lack of conversation, "you know, you act all timid with everyone else, but with me, you act like a total jerk."

"I'm sorry."

"No you're not," she pressed, crossing her arms.

Ryou said nothing.

"You must really hate being vulnerable, Bakura." She commented, pulling a box of pocky out of her bag and putting one in her mouth.

Ryou went rigid and stopped walking. Ayumi went a few steps further, before realizing that he'd come to a halt. She glanced back at him, blinking in curiosity. Ryou stared at her seriously.

"It's not that," he said, his voice grim, but harsh.

"Okay," she agreed, accepting his words, "but you're only like this with people who try to become friends with you. Except for Yugi, but I think you relate to him somehow." She wasn't smiling. These were her honest observations.

Ryou opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off.

"Hey, let's not get into this deep stuff," Ayumi said, waving a hand at him, "I don't hang out with you enough to have the right." With that, she finished the pocky stick she was eating, popped in another one, and continued on her way.

He stared at her, mouth agape. "O...kay..." he managed to choke out, and followed her.

Her mood swings were a little terrifying, really. Her perceptive abilities were scarier. She'd _known _that he wouldn't talk about it. She wasn't going to pursue matters that he didn't want to be pursued.

She was a very intelligent girl. Ryou was glad, though, that she wasn't being too curious. Some people, like Yugi, were.

"We need to hang out sometime," Ayumi commented, grinning at him, "soon, though. I don't want you holding out on me for, like, a couple months."

Ryou smiled slightly at the jab at his habitual reaction to friendly people. "Perhaps."

"You _do_ realize that I'm not giving you much of a choice, right?"

There was a pause between them, as she grinned at him a little manically, and he fixed her with a level stare that made no promises.

"I realize."

Ayumi pursed her lips, evidently displeased with his flippancy. "Grump," she jibed.

Ryou spared her a glance, his eyebrows raising.

She glared back. "You really are a total prick, you know that?"

His eyebrows went higher at the foul language. He didn't claim to know Ayumi all that well, but he'd thought that she hadn't really been much for swearing. Apparently, he'd been wrong.

"I don't mean to make you think that," Ryou admitted softly, averting his gaze.

"You just don't want me getting too friendly though, right?"

His eyes snapped to hers in surprise, and he silently cursed her perception.

"No," he mumbled, "that's not it."

"Jeez, Bakura," she complained loudly, heaving her arm up to dangle her bag over her shoulder, "pick a personality, would you?"

The weight of her statement, no matter how innocent she was of the situation, was enough to make Ryou shiver, a little.

Silence reigned as they walked through the front doors of the school, down the steps, and along the sidewalk and into the city area. Some boys wolf-whistled at her, waving for her to come across the street.

"Hey, Izumi!" One of them called, "why don't you ditch the freak and come hang with us? Can guarantee we won't make you vanish!"

"Yeah, baby, I can think of way better things to do than hang out with a she-male!"

"Come on, Izumi!"

"Yeah, girl!"

The immaturity and crudeness of the whole lot of them was enough to make Ryou want to vomit.

Ayumi glared at them, apparently thinking along similar lines, and flipped a very rude hand gesture in their direction. "Sorry, boys, but I have a boyfriend! And I'd appreciate if you didn't talk about my friend like that! I may have to hurt you!" With a grin and a wave to the schoolboys, she grabbed Ryou by the sleeve and led him further down the street.

The walk was silent, for the most part. Ryou could hear Ayumi's heavy breathing, like she was trying very hard to keep her cool. From what he'd seen, she was.

He wanted to say something, but years of social alienation gave him no words to speak. His mouth went dry, as if to assure that he would stay quiet.

She turned to him, still holding to his sleeve, "you know, Bakura, we really _do _need to hang out sometime." Her smile was stretched a little tight, her face a little whiter than usual. Her grip on his sleeve was relentless, as she pulled him down the street as fast as she could.

Trying to get away. Trying to pretend that what had just happened, hadn't.

Ryou watched her with sombre eyes. "You didn't have to do that." He murmured.

"Do what?" she asked, apparently preferring to play dumb.

"Stand up for me," Ryou answered. "They won't hurt me. They're too scared to do anything but make comments. I can handle that."

She stopped, staring at him disbelievingly. "No, you can't," she snapped in irritation, clenching his shirt sleeve tighter, "no one should have to deal with that alone. Stupid people like them really ought to just vanish."

The panic flared across his mind, through his body, like wildfire. No. No, that was wrong!

Ryou ripped his arm out of her grip, terror flashing across his face. "Don't say that! Don't _ever_ say that!" His voice was high, full of panic and fear and _dread_. If _he_ heard, then he may make it happen, just out of sadistic amusement.

He couldn't have that. It had only happened a few times in Domino, since he'd moved. He didn't want it to have to happen anymore. He didn't want to have to move, again.

Ayumi looked shocked. "B-Bakura? W-What do you mean?"

"Don't say 'vanish'!" He shouted, "just don't say that!"

"Why?" she shouted back, derisive and angry that he was standing up for the same people who'd been making fun of him. "Why does it matter? Why do _they _matter?"

"Because! Because they're people too! What if they vanished? What if something terrible happened to them? Just think! It would be all my fault!"

"You know that those rumours are complete bull, Bakura!"

"Stop it!"

"Stop what?" Ayumi yelled, becoming angrier and angrier at his behaviour.

"Don't call me that!" Ryou hissed, gnashing his teeth together and slamming his hands to his ears, even though he was carrying a bag in one. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to calm his spinning mind.

It wasn't working.

"Call you what?" she asked, taken aback, her voice breathless and shaky from their shouting match. All the time that she'd been pursuing their friendship, he'd never acted like this.

He wondered if she felt it her fault, that he'd hit such a breaking point, with her.

"Don't call me 'Bakura'! I'm not Bakura, I'm _Ryou!_"

And with that, tears burning in his eyes, Ryou tore back the other way, down the street that was opposite to his home.

"Baku-" she cut herself off, "Ryou! Ryou, wait!" Ayumi called. He could feel her footsteps, chasing after him.

But he was so much faster than she was, and he knew that she'd give up soon. He just ran, ran and ran and ran, until he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore, only the sound of his own blood pumping in his ears.

_Never 'vanish'. Never that. Never._

Ryou stumbled into an alleyway, falling back against a brick wall, sliding down the cool surface. When he hit the ground, he put his head in his hands.

Things were always like this. Everything always went wrong. If it wasn't something like this, then it would be that horrible blackness. He hated the blackness. Sometimes, it would last for hours. Sometimes days.

Ryou fisted his hands in his hair.

And when he wasn't unconscious within his own mind, overtaken by the monster that'd ruined his life, he was unstable and incomplete, a confused child unable to control a thing.

He hated what he'd become. He hated being this fearful, timid, shivering mess of pain and mourning.

_"You're pathetic, landlord," _a lilting voice whispered in his mind, a deep and dark voice that was achingly, painfully familiar.

It was days like this, when Ryou was so agonized and lost, that the Spirit would refuse control. The Spirit much preferred to watch his inner torture. It was far more amusing that anything it did out in the city. Ryou knew that.

_- Go away. -_

_"As if you could make me."_

He could almost see that disgusting, bloodthirsty smile. Those cold, red eyes.

Ryou shivered.

But the presence vanished, content to watch on the sidelines.

Ryou blew out a long, shuddering breath. He should be grateful. There had been a change in the Spirit, since Battle City had ended. It was almost imperceptible to some, but it was massive to Ryou.

As to why it'd happened, Ryou didn't dare to ask.

_I should go home._

He relaxed his hands, much to the pleasure of his now-aching scalp. He forced his panting to slow, trying to take deep, calm breaths.

He had to get home. Having a meltdown out in an alleyway was stupid. He could worry and be upset at home, where he was safer. Besides, it was supposed to rain.

Ryou waited a few moments, feeling his heartbeat slow ever-so-slightly, before struggling up into a stand. His legs were still shaky, from his panicking, but manageable. Picking up his schoolbag, he took a few purposeful strides out onto the street and stretched his arms.

The street was nearly deserted, which was unusual. He glanced up at the sky. It couldn't be later than four-thirty. It was still light out.

_He's going to kill everyone that I know, _his heart sobbed. _Poor Ayumi. She'll be next._

He shook his head, trying to clear his head. He had to get his mind away from thoughts like that, of things that were both out of his control and impossible for him to change by himself.

Ryou started to run. Running often helped him. He'd run right out of his house, and run to a park. He'd go somewhere isolated, where he could just let his mind go empty as he listened to birds chirping and children playing. It calmed him.

_"You think that you can drown yourself in all of your mortal activities," _the voice crooned, _"but you know that I'll take over eventually."_

Yes. Ryou knew that. But he was nothing if he didn't try, no matter how futile the attempt.

He kept running.

_But isn't that what you always do? Run away?_

This time, the bitter voice didn't come from the Spirit. It came from himself.

The sky rumbled, threatening rain. Ryou didn't even bother looking up at the sky, as he jogged down the street. The sky made good on its threat, and rain started pouring down from the clouds.

Ryou couldn't help but feel a little sorry for himself. Why was it always him? He freaked out on one of his only sort-of-friends, got harassed by the Spirit in his head, got rained on...

...And the day wasn't even over, yet.

Ryou wasn't sure if he imagined the deep, malicious chuckle that floated across the forefront of his consciousness. He didn't really want to check and find out, either.

Well, it appeared that he was going to have to walk all the way home, like this. It was going to take _hours_ to dry out his hair, which only added to his great day.

Mercifully, though, a bus stopped a little ways up and across the street. Ryou, deciding that he was cold and wet enough for one day, changed course towards it. Finally, a reprieve from all of his usual bad luck.

His terrible luck. His painful luck.

Ryou shook his head as he hustled towards the whirring sanctuary, trying to drive those kinds of thoughts out _again._

The driver must have seen him coming, because the bus waited for him to board. He muttered a quick thanks to the bus driver as he hurried up the steps, rummaging in his pocket and pulling out the necessary yen to pay his fare, dropping the coins into the machine.

The driver was an older man, who tipped his cap as Ryou passed. "Lucky you caught me, kid, or else you'd be even more drenched." His look was one of sympathy.

Ryou blinked and glanced out the window. It was pouring even harder. Then, he looked down at his soaked uniform and bag. Lucky, indeed. His homework was going to be soggy and unacceptable for turning in. He'd have to rewrite everything.

How very...lucky of him.

"Yeah," Ryou murmured, his voice a little bitter, and continued down the length of the bus until he reached an empty seat. He shivered as he went, feeling cold and miserable.

The bus seat was hard. Unfriendly. Not only was it uncomfortable, but, _luckily _for him, his seat was located directly under the bus's air conditioner. The _air conditioner_.

Shuddering at the icy air blowing right at him, Ryou huddled down into his soaking wet clothes and just begged for the day to be over.

Then again, Ryou couldn't really think of a reason to look forward to tomorrow.

End Chapter

Short. Yes, yes, I know. Chapters will get longer, of course. For those of you who've read my work before, you know that that's a promise.

Now, I just want to point out that No Strings Attached and this story aren't really all that connected. This one is only here to explain Ryou and Bakura's relationship. In many ways, it's a standalone fic.

Thus, you don't have to read this to understand NSA, and you don't have to read the other story to understand this one. Point made? :)

Please, drop a review on your way out!

- OoCA


	2. Perfect Downward Spiral

Thank you very much to those who reviewed, and thanks to those who even READ this little monster. I'm hoping that this does well, in the sense that I improve slightly from the abhorrent writing of No Strings Attached (the first twelve or so chapters, at least).

Note that NSA was written BEFORE this fic, so if you start with this one and then move onto that one and go "God, her writing sure deteriorated between this fic and the next..." Well, that's why. This is an entire year after NSA was posted. A lot of my style had changed, improved, or gotten better grammar. NSA is such a grammar fail. .

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Chapter Two

Perfect Downward Spiral

_"You have three new messages in your mailbox. First new message:"_

The beep of the answering machine echoed through the apartment.

_"Ryou, it's your landlord. I'm just reminding you to remind your father that your rent for this month is due in a week. Don't want you falling behind, now. Thanks. I'll probably see you tomorrow. Get some sleep, child!"_

The woman's voice cut off, and Ryou sighed, pulling the towel down over his face. Right, his rent was due. His landlord had told him a few days ago, when he'd been on his way to school. He supposed that she'd assumed that he wouldn't remember, and rightfully so.

He hadn't wanted to have to call his father. He didn't like talking to him on the phone. It only reminded him of their distance.

_"Second new message:" _the machine chimed, _"Hey, Ryou, it's, er - well, it's me. I'm sorry, son, that I've been gone for so long without so much as a phone call. I know we've been keeping up emails, but I know that's not the same thing. I guess I should have remembered that you were at school-"_

Of course his father would have forgotten. He couldn't even remember Ryou's birthday on time. He didn't expect his father to remember his school hours, or to take the time difference into account. The man was just too preoccupied with his work.

_"-I'll be home in a week-and-a-half, so you count on it!" _

His father was trying to sound excited, encouraging, even. Ryou wouldn't count on it. He knew his father would probably end up there for a few more weeks. Then he'd come home for three days and be off again, onto another fantasy adventure of archaeology. Much more interesting than an introvert son.

The voice on the machine softened, _"I'm really sorry, Ryou. I know this kills you. I wish I could make it up to you."_

Ryou knew that his father didn't even know how to try making it up to him. He wouldn't even know where to start.

The strain in his father's voice, the sound of his own pain and regret...it always made his father's actions forgivable. Ryou didn't feel the need to have things made up for. He was fine with forgiving and moving on. It was all he really had left to do.

He just didn't want to lose his father. His father was probably the last real anchor that he had left. He needed him, more than anything.

The sad voice of his father continued on. _"We'll...we'll do something when I get back. Start thinking up some ideas, okay? I'll take to you soon. I love you, son. Bye." _Ryou heard the sound of a shuddering intake of breath, before the whirring stopped, indicating the message's end.

The machine beeped again, and this time, the echo seemed almost a little painful. Ryou winced in spite of himself, tugging on a button that was hanging from the shirtsleeve of his pyjama top.

_"Third new message:" _click. Beep. A young, female voice came onto the line. _"Ryou, I-" _there was a pause, and the sound of breathing. _"I'm so sorry...I just..."_ there was another pause, and the message ended.

Ryou's fingers tugged just a little too hard, and the button snapped from his sleeve and clattered to the floor, rolling across the wood.

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Ayumi," he murmured to his answering machine. He knew that it was stupid. She couldn't hear him. He also knew that he'd never say it to her face, either.

He pressed the button to turn off the machine, not bothering to erase the messages. He'd just do it another time. It wasn't like all that many people called him. His message inbox was never full.

Maybe this was just his own sick way of making himself feel better. Ryou smiled grimly at the thought.

He rubbed the towel in his hair, trying dry it off at least a little. His hair was almost impossible to dry. He'd shower two hours prior to school in the mornings, and he'd still go with wet hair. It almost made him just go and get it cut. At least get it tamed.

The spirit did not approve of this though. Every time Ryou had ever tried to sneak a haircut, the spirit had overtaken him and forced him back home. It'd also broken every pair of scissors that he owned and had warned that if he ever attempted to cut his own hair again, the spirit would cut _him_ right back.

Ryou didn't want to find out if the spirit would make good on his word. But in that, he was giving the spirit the pleasure of having won, and that was almost worse.

He just couldn't win, could he?

Ryou sighed again, and glanced out the living room window. Usually, when he was feeling like this, he'd walk over to the park. Judging by the weather, however, such a trip was not going to be happening. It was pouring, so hard that Ryou couldn't even see anything out of the window save for a sheet of moving gray.

It really didn't do a whole lot to improve his mood. He'd already been upset - rain was not proving to solve that problem.

"Homework," he mumbled to himself. He really needed to get it done. It was only a little after five o'clock, and he didn't usually eat until six-thirty to seven. He had a good, long while before he'd have to start making dinner. Besides, he was pretty sure that he could just microwave leftovers from earlier in the week. It wasn't the most exciting meal, but Ryou didn't feel much like being exciting.

He turned to his wet bag. It'd left a dark stain beneath it, on the carpet. Ryou sighed. From the look of the bag, the insides weren't going to have fared much better.

Opting to get to work, Ryou eased the pack onto the ground and opened the snaps, gingerly pulling out two soggy notebooks and a wrinkled textbook.

"How is this even possible?" he asked out loud, setting each object down in its own separate space to air dry. "I wasn't even in the rain for that long..."

He glared at the backpack, sitting innocently on his floor. He'd just have to chalk the entire incident up to his horrible, never ending bad luck and just pray that his textbook dried well enough that he wouldn't have to pay the school for a new one.

Well, from how destroyed his work was, it seemed that he wouldn't be able to copy everything down for a little while. Ryou pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't even want to consider things getting any worse for him.

He wasn't sure if that was even possible. Did the world hate him, or something? What had he _done_?

_"Mommy, I just can't play soccer right. I just can't do it!"_

_"It's your bad luck, I'm telling you. It's why you suck."_

_"Sweetie, please. Now, why do you think you can't do it, Ryou?"_

_"Because of my bad luck! Amane was right!"_

_"Ryou, luck is entirely your own. If you decide that you can't play soccer, then you'll never play it. But if you convince yourself that you can, then you'll see a startling improvement." A laugh, "now I'm not saying that you'll turn into a superstar, but things will get better. Live life looking up, Ryou, or you'll find that you have nowhere to go."_

He clutched at his pyjama top, at the spot above his heart. _Mom..._

Words couldn't describe how he missed her. Missed her and Amane.

He remembered how he hadn't understood what the doctors meant by "incurable", when he found out that his mom had a disease. He remembered that they'd advised her not to drive, in case she had a dizzy spell.

He remembered that his mother was a strong woman, one who hated being impaired in any way. All she was doing was driving them to school. Four blocks, that was it.

Well, they do say that most accidents happen close to home. They had barely gotten to the end of the street before she swerved, finding that she was losing consciousness. Amane had grabbed his hand as they hit the telephone pole.

His mother had died on impact, due to the way that the car hit the post. Both Ryou and Amane had survived the crash. Ryou came out with a broken arm. Amane's neck had _snapped_ in the collision.

One might call his injuries good luck. He'd fared much better than his family had. His injuries were minimal, compared to theirs. Ryou didn't see it that way. He saw it as just more bad luck.

His sister hadn't been wearing her seatbelt quite right. Ryou didn't know if that because the two of them had been horsing around in the car or if she just hadn't buckled it properly. Either way, it did little to save her.

She'd managed for three weeks in the hospital, but there's only so much an eight-year-old child's body can survive. The broken neck was bad. The fact that she'd never walk again was worse. The infection came at the end of the first week she was in.

The doctors couldn't have done much. It spread fast, because she wasn't moving much. Her body didn't have the strength to fight it off. She was strong too, though. Amane had been much like their mother. She'd fought it off for a week and a half, but it claimed her in the end.

Two funerals, one after the other. Ryou didn't think that he'd ever be able to see so much black in such a short period of time.

Admittedly, Amane's had been harder to go through. Ryou had _watched_ his sister dying slowly in that hospital room. He hadn't even seen his mother's body. Everything had happened too fast. The neighbours had been outside at the time, mowing their lawns. An ambulance had arrived within a few minutes of the crash, and his mother's body had been quickly covered at moved.

Though it was morbid, he found comfort when the doctors had told him and his father that her death had been instant, virtually painless. It was more comforting than what Amane's death had been like.

It was after Amane died that his father became so engrossed in his archaeology. It wasn't until high school that his father actually took extended trips away, disappearing for weeks on end, but his father had used his work as a coping method. Ryou had barely spoken with him since _that day _when everything changed.

_Quit moping around, Ryou,_ he told himself, fisting his hand. _It's not going to accomplish anything._

He moved towards the phone. If someone asked him what possessed him to pick up the receiver and dial that number, he would have told you that he didn't know. It certainly wasn't the Spirit.

The phone beeped in his ear for a moment. Then a voice came on the other end, speaking something in a foreign language (a greeting, Ryou assumed), but with a voice that Ryou knew all too well.

"Er..."

The person on the other end snapped something else in Arabic. Ryou wasn't sure if it was swearing or a threat. It could have been both.

"Hello...Malik. It's...er...Ryou."

_"Ah-" _Malik seemed to be struggling with switching languages. Ryou waited patiently for a moment while the Egyptian gathered his thoughts.

_"Ryou? Not to be rude..."_ a thoughtful pause, _"well, yeah. I do mean to be rude. Why the hell are you calling this early? Don't you know what time it is?"_

Right. Time difference.

"Malik...?" Ryou ventured, "I don't mean to be...well, rude back, but...it's nine o'clock in Egypt."

_"And...?"_

"In the _morning_."

It seemed that Malik was not getting the point. Nine AM really was not that ridiculous of a time to call someone. Especially on a school day. He shouldn't have even caught him.

_"Unlike you, I don't go to school. I like to sleep in on weekdays." _Malik made a sound like he was trying to sit up. _"But that is apparently changing. Ishizu wants me to go to school now, since I've given up my whole revenge on the Pharaoh thing."_

"You're not becoming a Tomb Keeper again?" Ryou asked, curious. He would have thought that Malik would just return to what his life had been. Wouldn't he have wanted that sense of normalcy?

_"Nah. After getting a taste of the real world, I can't go back to that. Ishizu's going to get a home up in the city. Thinks it's time."_

Ryou's eyebrows shot up. That was, actually, surprising. From what he'd gathered of Ishizu, she'd been very eager to return to Egypt and her prior lifestyle. Well, her family's. Ishizu, he'd heard, had been allowed outside as Malik had not.

_"-didn't call to talk about my life. So...why did you call?"_

Ryou hesitated. Why _had_ he called? Other than wanting to stop moping around, Ryou hadn't really had any particular motive for contacting Malik.

"Sorry. It was kind of spontaneous."

_"Don't apologize to me, apologize to my sleeping patterns." _Malik snorted derisively, but continued. _"It was for a reason, Ryou. I'm not an idiot."_

"I...really don't know why."

_"Is...something wrong? With you?"_

It was Malik's not-so-roundabout way of asking whether or not the Spirit was giving him trouble. Ryou sighed. Though he and Malik hadn't been tentative friends for long, Ryou had seen Malik's...bluntness from a mile away.

Ever since the Battle City Tournament, Malik had felt that he owed something to Ryou, for Marik sending him to the Shadow Realm. Ryou had insisted that he didn't blame Malik for any of that, but Malik would have none of it. Marik had been a part of _him_, and thus, it had been _his_ fault.

Ryou knew that Malik meant well, but he really didn't want Malik to keep trying to make up for what had happened. It wasn't healthy.

_"Ryou? Oi, Ryou!"_

Ryou jolted, realizing that he'd just completely left Malik in the lurch on the other end. "Sorry," he apologized quickly, "I was thinking about something."

_"Well, yeah, seems so."_

"I've just been...having problems. The Spirit's been...talking to me, but not taking control a lot, lately. He...it...the Spirit seems to be different, too. Kind of." Ryou explained it in a rush, feeling a worried knot in his stomach. He just hoped that the Spirit wasn't listening.

_"Ever since...you got out of the Shadow Realm?"_

Ryou nodded, and then blushed when he realized that Malik was on the phone from _Egypt_. He would not have seen a head nod. "Ah...yes. That's about when it started."

Malik went quiet, seeming to mull over this for a moment. _"Does he still take control sometimes?"_

"Yes," Ryou answered, "I still wake up with injuries and things in my apartment that weren't there before."

_"Is he hurting you?" _Malik demanded, his voice suddenly rough and angry. Ryou winced at the volume.

"No, no," Ryou said, shaking his head into the receiver. "I...don't think the Spirit is doing that. I think it's more like...like the Spirit gets hurt when he's off..._stealing_ things."

The Spirit was always stealing things. It even, sometimes, happened when Ryou was in control. He'd be walking down the hallway one minute, and then he'd realize that he'd nicked simple things out of someone's pockets. It was rarely money, when Ryou was in control. It was always pencils, erasers, sometimes the odd cell phone. Ryou had figured that the Spirit was just doing it to either prove that he could to Ryou, or see if he could for himself.

_"-not surprising. Considering what he was when he was alive."_

"Huh?"

_"Never mind." _Malik said, _"don't worry about it."_

Ryou had to notice that Malik had waved off his comment a little _too_ quickly for it to be something that Ryou "didn't need to worry about". It seemed to pertain to the Spirit, after all.

_What he was when he was alive...?_

Ryou blinked. _What's that supposed to mean? Was he some kind of thief, or something?_

Ryou didn't even know when his Spirit had been alive. Yugi's other half, Yami, had been an ancient Egyptian Pharaoh. For a while, Ryou had wondered if the Spirit of the Ring was from that time too, and if that was why he hated the Pharaoh so much. There seemed to be such a deep-seated, familiar hatred there. It was almost overpowering, sometimes. It made Ryou, even, be inclined to avoiding Yugi and his other half, for fear of the Spirit attacking them.

However, Ryou had lately been wondering if the Spirit just hated _everything_ and had picked a target in a fellow Spirit. He wouldn't be surprised.

Still, he had to wonder. It was a curious thought: where the Spirit came from.

_"Oi, I swear to Ra, if you keep blanking out on me, I'll come over there myself!"_

If there was anyone insane enough to make good on their word about something like that, it was Malik.

Ryou heaved a deep sigh. "I'm so sorry, Malik. I shouldn't have called."

_"No problem. You should probably get some sleep. And chain yourself to the bed, so that the Spirit of the Ring doesn't take your body for a joy ride while you're asleep."_

"Thanks, Malik."

There was a knock at his door, and Ryou nearly jumped out of his skin. Who could possibly be coming to his house? He rarely had guests, and usually only when his father was in town.

"I'll be right there," he called to the visitor. He turned back to the phone, "Malik, I have to go."

_"Hey, wait a second, Ryou, Ryou!"_

He hung up, dropping the phone back onto its cradle. He rushed to the door, not bothering to check the peep hole.

The person who he was greeted with, however, surprised him almost off of his feet.

"A-Ayumi?"

She was standing there, completely drenched, looking both miserable and utterly repentant. "Ba-Ryou," she greeted breathlessly.

Ryou stared at her, too shocked to really know how to react. "What-? Why-?"

Ayumi sneezed, rubbing her nose on her shirtsleeve, "you know, I think I could totally go for a towel, right now."

The comment was enough to propel Ryou into action. He wordlessly, indicated for her to come inside, opening the linen closet in the apartment entrance. He rummaged around it for a moment, before pulling out the largest towel that he could find.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her. Grinning in relief and appreciation, Ayumi wrapped it around her shoulders, sniffling into the soft fabric.

"Why did you come all the way here?" Ryou asked her, seriousness coming into his tone. He didn't want her here. It was a bad, bad thing for her to be doing. If the Spirit decided to hurt her...

He couldn't lose another friend. He just couldn't.

"I wanted to apologize." Her voice snapped him out of his panicked thoughts. He blinked at her, uncomprehending.

"Apologize...?"

Ayumi grinned slightly, rubbing the towel on the tips of her hair, to keep it from dripping. "For making you upset, of course. What, did you forget?"

"That..." Ryou struggled for words, "that wasn't your fault."

Ayumi smiled, not really agreeing with or denying what he'd said. She walked forwards, into the apartment, taking in the sparsely decorated living room.

He watched her take slow, quiet steps around the room. She didn't touch anything, almost like she was trying to preserve it all.

Then, she turned around, staring at him with a sort of subdued confusion. "You live alone most of the time?"

Ryou blinked.

"I thought you knew that."

Ayumi shook her head. "No," she said, "I didn't. I knew your dad went on extended trips, but..."

"But you didn't know that he was away more often than not."

She nodded, looking like she appreciated that he'd found the words where she could not.

Ryou sighed, closing the door on the linen cupboard. "It's not really that bad," he told her, following her into the living room. He glanced around also, at the pale, mostly-bare walls. His father liked pictures, liked taking them and framing them. Ryou had put them away. He didn't like to be reminded of where his father went, what his father saw.

After all, Egypt was the origin of the Item that had destroyed Ryou's life. He didn't want any reminders of that.

"No pictures?" Ayumi queried, apparently catching on as to what Ryou was looking at.

He shook his head. "No. I don't like them."

"Not paintings?" when he shook his head again, her eyebrows shot up. "No pictures?"

"No," Ryou answered again. "I just don't like them."

"Oh..." she appeared a little uncomfortable, like she'd just said something incredibly awkward. Ryou didn't mind. Most people didn't understand the unusual things he did, or why he couldn't stand certain things. And he wouldn't explain it to them. He couldn't. It was too dangerous, and he was afraid of what they'd think. What they'd say.

How much they would hate him.

"You like reading, though." She indicated the large bookcase, overflowing with books. "But I already knew that."

She grinned at him before turning her attention to the bookcase, and he couldn't help but attempt a smile back. Her eyes lit up as she browsed the titles on the bookcase, her finger trailing along the spines.

"Lots of mystery books," she commented. "_Murder_ mystery books." She glanced over at him, cocking an eyebrow as if to ask why he enjoyed that particular genre so much. It didn't surprise him, that she was a little confused by his preferences.

"I duel, too." He said, "with an occult-style deck."

"I know." She laughed, smiling brightly with humour. "I saw you on TV. For the Battle City Tournament. I think everyone in Japan was watching that one."

"Ah..." Ryou looked away, his gaze darkening. He didn't remember a single thing from the Battle City Tournament. He hadn't been the one who'd played.

Ryou had fallen unconscious in the hospital, injured from a twisted deal that the Spirit had made with Malik. He had woken up briefly in the middle of the duel with Yugi's spirit, and hadn't woken again for some time after the fact.

Not until he'd been pulled out of the Shadow Realm, that is. Ryou suppressed a shiver. The Shadow Realm. It was a fate he wished on no person, no matter how evil.

"You surprised a lot of people, when you showed up in the semi-finals, when everything moved onto that blimp. I don't think anyone from school had expected you to be a duelist...or such a good one."

He was tempted to say that he wasn't - the Spirit was. Ryou was an adequate duelist. He could hold his own. But against the opponents that the Spirit faced? Ryou would have lost out within minutes.

He hated that. The fact that the Spirit could even overtake his hobbies.

"Did I...?" he queried absently, following her gaze across the bookshelf. She had picked one up, a Holmes novel.

"You're reading it backwards," he pointed out to her, indicating that it was read left-to-right.

"English people read left-to-right?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up.

"You didn't know that?"

Ayumi ran a hand through her hair, putting the book back. She readjusted the towel around her shoulders. "Oh, probably. I just get forgetful sometimes, you know?"

"I suppose."

She stared at the novel. "But you read English?"

"I can speak and write in English, also. My father grew up in England. He and...my mother thought that being bilingual was a necessary skill."

Ayumi kept her expression carefully blank, but Ryou could see the surprise in her eyes. She hadn't expected him to bring up his mother. She knew that he didn't like to talk about her.

"I've always wanted to learn English," she said. She tightened her towel, shivering slightly it her cold and wetness.

"Ayumi," Ryou said, gesturing at her wet clothes, "do you want to borrow something? I should have a shirt and pants that would fit you. We can dry your clothes here, if you'd like."

She nodded, looking grateful. "That would be awesome," she said. It suddenly became obvious that her lips were tinged a slightly blue colour, her cheeks flushed red from cold.

Ryou smiled sheepishly at her, and turned down the hall, "I'll be right back. There's a blanket in the linen cupboard...it'll be warmer than a towel."

"You don't mind if I get it wet?"

Ryou shook his head. "No, it's fine. I'll just dry it later."

"Okay. Finding clothes will take a while, huh?"

He shrugged, not denying the fact. "It could. I don't know what I have that's close to your size."

She was already making her way towards the linen cupboard, pulling out a large, tan coloured blanket and hugging it around her body. It made her look like a floating head atop a large, brown cylinder.

Ryou chuckled and hurried down the hallway, feeling a lot better than he had in a long while. He shut his bedroom door and flicked on the light, making his way towards his closet. It seemed fine, for a while. The Spirit wasn't making any indication that it would be taking him over.

Then again, it often didn't. The Spirit liked to surprise him, sometimes. Other times, however, it liked to gloat for a while, watching Ryou squirm and wait for it to just take him over, before doing the deed.

Ryou slid open the closet door, searching for the smallest pair of pants he could find. He managed to locate a pair of uniform trousers from his first year of high school. They looked so small. Ayumi was pretty small, though. At a second glance, he was almost positive that they'd fit her and still have room left.

Opting on a dark sweater, one that he knew was warm, Ryou began folding the clothes on his bed, preparing to take them out for her. He also grabbed a hair brush, placing it on top of the pile. He knew that she'd want to use one.

That was about the point when things went haywire.

There was a crack of energy, like a spark of electricity, in his room. Ryou knew the familiar feeling of Shadow Magic, and he tensed, knowing that he couldn't do much but knowing that he had to do something to protect Ayumi, if this was an attack.

The blackness exploded in a circle, right in the middle of his room. A figure appeared, first as a beige pant leg, and then emerged a navy blue sleeveless top. Tanned skin came next, followed by a face and head of unruly blonde hair that he knew too well.

"M-M-Malik...?"

And, not realizing that he'd just caused a very large problem for his white-haired friend, Malik Ishtar grinned.

End Chapter

Well, there we go. I agonized over this chapter, because I was really fighting with how to...I don't know..."voice" Ryou. I hate writing stuff with very little dialogue. It's so hard!

Drop a review on your way out, and thanks for reading!


	3. Resonance

Aha! Here be chapter three! (Such a bad rhyme, I know...)

Ahem. Anyways, yes. Here it is. Sorry for the ridiculously long wait, folks. I'm trying to get back onto a more regular updating schedule. Things got hectic, for a good while there.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Chapter Three

Resonance

"Y-Y-You're here." Ryou breathed, pointing one shaking finger straight at the young Egyptian. Malik looked slightly affronted, crossing his arms and tossing his hair vainly.

Malik. He was there. In his room.

Oh no. Why?

Why couldn't he just have normal friends that prank called him or showed up at his door at three in the morning?

This was bad. Very, very bad.

There was a tense, brief silence, as Malik seemed to intake Ryou's obvious horror, before the young man grinned widely, flashing pearly white teeth.

"What? Don't like me anymore?"

The comment's implications momentarily stunned Ryou out of his shock. His mouth fell open in complete mortification. He could _feel_ his face going redder and redder. He probably looked like a tomato.

Malik's grin only widened as Ryou realized what he'd been implying. Then he winked, just for effect.

"Malik!" He exclaimed, going redder still, "I'm not g-g-"

Then, realizing that he'd pretty much shouted Malik's name, Ryou clapped a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened hugely. Oh no. No, no, no...

_"Ryou?" _came the call from down the hallway, as if on cue, _"did you just yell something?"_

Now Malik froze on the spot. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights. That made two of them. Ryou _felt_ like a deer in the path of a raging car, speeding toward him at a speed so fast that he couldn't hope to save himself...or remedy the situation in any way, shape, or form.

At least _now_ Malik realized why Ryou had not been very glad to see him.

"Shit," Malik cursed. Ryou winced slightly at the vulgarity.

Silence.

Her voice was closer, now. _"Hey, do you need help or something?" _

Her footsteps, as she made her way down the hallway toward him. Toward them.

He could practically hear the world ending with every footstep. What was he supposed to say to her? 'Oh, hey Ayumi, my friend just happened to randomly poof into existence, landing in my bedroom after using an ancient magical art that is both dangerous and life-consuming. Let's go get ice cream!'

Somehow, he just couldn't see that working out.

Ryou jumped into instant action. He flipped the lock on his door, hoping that she hadn't heard the sound of it clicking. "No, it's fine!" He called back to her. "I...was just killing a spider."

There was a faint sound of laughter. _"A...spider."_ She sounded torn between disbelief and giggles.

Heat flared in his face. Ryou was not good at lying in the heat of the moment. Now, she probably thought that he was some kind of idiot, freaking out over small insects.

_"Need help killing it, or did you scare it to death with your war cry?"_

"I-I-It's just fine, don't worry about it! I got it!"

"Okay, then," she said finally, and he could hear her footsteps as she retreated back towards the living room of the apartment.

With a sigh of relief, Ryou laid his head against the door, taking a brief moment to gather himself. His knees suddenly felt weak. He sure hoped that he wouldn't just collapse, or something. That would really worry Ayumi.

"Shit," Malik breathed again, arms falling to his sides. The cocky grin was wiped right off of his face, like it'd been erased from a dry board.

"Indeed," Ryou agreed shortly, stumbling over to his bed and picking up Ayumi's clothes. "A phone call would have been sufficient."

Malik's eyebrows shot up. "Already did that, remember?"

Ryou went a little pink. He _was _being quite rude. Malik had only been trying to be a good friend, by checking on Ryou when he was so obviously having issues with something that very few people in the world could even understand.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, folding the clothes over his arms, "for-"

"Don't worry about it," Malik said, waving a hand to stop Ryou's apology. He then took a grinning step to the left. "I'll be in your closet."

"The...closet?"

Ryou wasn't sure that he was really following.

"Well, yeah. Do you want me to go with _you_?"

"No, of course not, but-"

"Don't worry about it," Malik said. "I'll just chill here until she leaves."

"She may be here for a..." Ryou raised an eyebrow as he spoke, eyes snapping to the small closet, "...long while, you realize."

"Eh. Just close the door and I'll hang around your room." Malik looked from side-to-side, "once the coast is clear, of course."

Ryou rolled his eyes. "And if she catches you?" he hissed, "how do I explain that?"

"I was here already, and you didn't want to make her feel like she was imposing. Duh."

Ryou blinked. Okay. It was fairly obvious which of the two was better versed in deception. Watching Malik just come up with things like that on the spot was really quite astounding to see.

Malik went up to Ryou and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "s'okay, Ryou. You'll get better at it, eventually."

He knew that it was meant as a compliment. Malik had definitely meant no harm in saying it. Still, Ryou didn't mask the horror on his face quickly enough. Malik caught the expression, and recoiled his hand back as if he'd been stung.

"Sorry," he mumbled, gripping his wrist self-consciously, averting his gaze from Ryou's.

"No," Ryou said, rubbing the back of his neck, "I'm sorry. I'm just...really wound up, right now."

Malik didn't respond. He just rubbed his arm, looking self-conscious. Ryou sighed, turning his head to the door.

"I _am_ sorry, though. If not about that then about...all of this, really."

"Don't worry about it."

They fell into silence again. Ryou was the one to break it.

"I...have to go. Ayumi..." Ryou gestured towards the closed door, a vague smile on his face. Malik nodded, grinned back, and stepped into the closet. The door closed with a soft click. Ryou took that as indication for him to leave.

Ryou smoothed the clothes over his arm and reached for the doorknob.

And when he opened it, Ayumi was standing _right there_.

Her hand was raised, poised to knock. There was a confused expression on her face, one that made her nose scrunch up and her eyebrows draw down.

"Er, Ryou...?" she asked, leaning in to poke her head into the room. She glanced from side-to-side, as if looking for something. "Were you talking to someone?"

Ryou dearly hoped that she couldn't see him rapidly paling. He shook his head, doing the best innocent act that he could muster up. "Um...no. Why?"

"I thought I heard someone."

Ryou shook his head. "Just me," he murmured, and stepped out of his room. It forced Ayumi back, too, and gave him just enough time to close the door.

She played with her fingers, looking a little embarrassed with herself. Ryou decided to let her off, since she actually _had_ been right. He handed his folded pile of clothing to her, indicating to the bathroom.

"You can change in there," he said. "Want me to make some tea?"

She nodded, accepting the clothing with a grateful smile. She then bustled into the bathroom, closing the door perhaps a little too quickly.

He felt bad for embarrassing her. She must have thought that she was crazy.

He sighed. Well, that made two of them. He threw a disparaging glance over to his bedroom door. Three crazy people. He had forgotten about the largest guilty party.

Ryou made his way into the kitchen, absently flipping on the kettle. He grabbed for two mugs out of the cupboard, placing sugar and milk on the counter beside them.

He wondered if Ayumi really drank English tea. She didn't seem very familiar with English culture...

Ah, well. She probably would be just fine. She liked cafes, after all.

Ryou rubbed the back of his neck, sagging down to lean against the counter. He didn't know why he was wasting so much time worrying about stupid things. He needed to focus on two things: one, making sure that Ayumi was safe, which meant getting her home quickly. Two, he needed to deal with Malik. Somehow.

The second one was going to prove much harder than the first. Still, he could appreciate that if the Spirit tried anything, Malik could help subdue it. Which, on the negative side, would only result in needing to explain a lot to Ayumi. That, or erase her memory.

He didn't like the possible complications of memory erasing, though. It could backfire and erase everything. That kind of magic wasn't reversible. Once they screwed up, they couldn't put her back together.

Ryou didn't think that he could handle chancing that.

He heard the bathroom door open, and the soft padding of feet as Ayumi came down the hallway. She'd brushed her hair out, and now it hung smooth down her back. Her wet clothes were in her arms, and she proffered them to him once she got into the kitchen.

"It won't be too long," Ryou assured her, taking the wet bundle. He moved past her and towards the laundry room. She followed.

"I'll go right after that," she said, "I don't want to intrude forever."

He laughed at that. "You're not intruding, Ayumi."

She shook her head, and his smile vanished. He watched her, as she stared at him with a sort of sadness that he'd never seen before. Not on her face.

"You like your space, Ryou," she told him, "I've known that since I first decided to force you to be my friend."

Ryou put the clothes into the dryer, adjusting the settings. "You didn't...haven't forced me." His hand lingered over each setting, feeling a welling of dread in the pit of his stomach. He pressed 'start', and the machine began whirring to life.

"Haven't I?"

When he glanced up at her, her eyes were filled with that deep sadness. His mouth popped open. He wanted to say something, but he found that he had no words to give.

Ayumi clasped her hands together, and smiled at him, the sadness suddenly vanishing from her face. He could still see it, though, lurking in the depths of her gaze. "How about that tea?" she suggested, and turned to leave.

Ryou should have stopped her, grabbed her and hugged her, or something. He didn't. He merely watched her go, his heart hardening. This was getting too far. They were becoming too close. If they became friends, real friends, she was going to get hurt.

Or worse.

Ryou didn't know if he'd be able to handle that.

He straightened, following her into his kitchen. She was leaning against the counter, staring at nothing. The kettle had boiled, so Ryou began pouring the tea.

"English tea?" she queried, watching him prepare it.

He nodded. "My parents raised me like a European in a lot of ways."

"So...do you have a British accent when you speak English?"she asked, and then her eyes widened in surprise, "is English your first language?"

"I said I was raised _like_ a European," he explained with a musing smile, "not that I _am _one. I was born in Japan, and Japanese is still my first language."

"I...see." Her expression turned amused. "You confuse me, Ryou Bakura."

Ryou masked the flinch at his last name. He didn't need to restart that whole stupid thing again. Not when Ayumi had been so torn up over it.

He finished preparing her tea for her in silence. She didn't mind, and just continued to look around his kitchen, taking in all the details of Ryou's home.

Finally, after putting in the milk and sugar, he proffered it to her.

"It's hot," he murmured to her, as he put the cup into her hands. Ayumi took it gratefully, seeming to relish in its warmth.

"Thanks," she mumbled right back. He saw her glance at him, shyly from the rim of the cup.

He turned his head away, grimacing slightly.

Ayumi took a sip, ignoring his warning as to the heat. She set the cup down, then, and sighed. "Shuu doesn't visit for three weeks."

Ryou smiled at her complaining. He knew how Ayumi could get when her boyfriend didn't visit for extended periods of time.

"He calls you, though."

Ayumi cocked an eyebrow, glaring at him pointedly. "And how would you know that?"

"You've taken calls at school. You've taken texts in class."

Her face flamed red with embarrassment at having been caught. She grumbled something about him being a stalker and picked her drink back up.

Ryou chuckled, "I'm not going to tell on your, or anything."

"Yeah, but I thought I was being sneaky."

Ryou took a sip of his tea, savouring the sense of familiarity and calm.

He should have known, however, that the moment he felt such pleasure, everything was bound to go wrong. Very, very, very wrong.

For Ryou, the signal to everything going downhill fast was the sudden speed-up of his heartbeat. It jolted him, and he dropped his mug. It fell to the ground in a mess of shattered glass and tea. He gasped out, grabbing his chest with his free hand.

The world suddenly went up in flames. His vision began to blur.

The unfocused face of Ayumi suddenly entered his vision, and she took hold of his shoulders to steady him. "Ryou? Ryou! Are you okay?"

The pounding of footsteps, and Malik's voice suddenly rang clear through the haze. "What happened?" He must've heard the glass break.

Ayumi let out a screech, and Ryou vaguely saw her stumble back. "Who are you? When did you-?"

He cut her off, grabbing at her arm to get her away from Ryou, "no time! You have to get out of here!"

"Why?" she demanded, boldly re-conquering her ground. She wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "What's wrong with him?"

He could feel her hands back on his shoulders, as she tried to keep him steady. "Why is he so hot?" she gasped.

Malik wrenched her away from him, all but forcing her over to the door. "Look, I'm his friend. I snuck in through his window to surprise him, but I hadn't realized that he had company. He's fine. I'll grab his medication. It'll be fine."

Ayumi was struggling and protesting as he herded her to the door. "Why do you keep saying 'fine'? Look at him! I-I think he needs an ambulance. And how did you get up to the second floor of an apartment building?"

Ryou heard the door open. "He just needs his medication. Don't worry. And I climbed the tree outside his bedroom window, what do you think?"

"I can't just leave him-"

"You can," Malik's voice had taken a very hard, forceful edge, "and you will."

Ryou felt the wrinkle of Shadow Magic pulse and shift.

"He'll return the clothes to you soon. Don't worry about it. He just needs rest, and you need to go home. You can explain to your parents that he let you borrow some clothes because yours were wet. Don't tell them about him being sick."

"Yes. Okay. Tell Ryou that I say goodbye." Her voice was a monotone, completely and utterly controlled by a magic that she had no hope of protecting herself from.

Ryou choked back an angry sob at that. Everyone he knew always got tied up in Shadow Magic. No matter how big or small the incident, it always _happened_.

Why, damn it?

He heard her footsteps as she retreated down the hallway, controlled by Malik's Millennium Rod. The door slammed, and Malik flipped the lock.

His vision was fuzzy. He really couldn't make out what was what, at this point. His clammy hands fumbled against the counter as he tried to maintain his balance.

Hands were there again, helping him.

"Don't worry about her, it was just a minor spell. It was more like compulsion than actual mind control." Malik slipped one of Ryou's arms over his shoulder and dragged his body to the couch.

"She'll be fine, Ryou. What about you?"

He tried to answer, but he felt heavy and weak and unable to control his body anymore.

Why did he feel so heavy?

Panic lanced through him, but he knew that he was too far gone to do anything about it. It was going to happen. Again.

"Ryou?" Malik asked in concern. His voice was getting farther away. "Ryou, you need to stay conscious. Are you sick?"

Malik finally got him down onto the couch, sprawled out like a rag doll.

Ryou's breaths came out in shallow, ragged gasps. He could feel himself fighting in and out of consciousness. "It's...the..."

Malik caught onto what Ryou meant in his broken response and cursed aloud. "Thought so. Crazy bastard has the _worst_ damn timing. Suppose it's on purpose, though."

Ryou felt too weak to agree with that.

"Come on," Malik urged, gripping Ryou's shoulders tightly. "Fight it, Ryou. Fight it."

It was a futile attempt.

Ryou moaned in agony as strange, alien shadows reached up like massive arms to pull him away, wrenching him further and further backwards, into the depths of his mind.

He tried to say something, tried to warn Malik about how dangerous the spirit was, but he'd lost his voice. The magic gave one final tug, and Ryou's world was submerged into warm darkness.

_Malik...get out of here...quickly..._

It was a pity that Malik didn't hear the warning.

End Chapter

Uh oh! We all know what just happened there. Will Ryou be okay?

Well, you're just going to have to wait and see.

Good? Bad? Ugly?

Drop a review on your way out and tell me how you felt about the chapter!


	4. A Modicum of Normal

Oh, jeez. I don't think I can even describe how hard it is to write from Ryou's POV. I rewrote this chapter more times than should be legal. And the dream sequence? (cocks gun)

'Nuff said.

But thanks to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciated the lovely comments and constructive opinions!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Chapter Four

A Modicum of Normal

_The city was burning._

_Ryou blinked, looking up into the sky that was obscured by gray, wispy smoke. His nose was assaulted by the volatile scent of rotting flesh and filth. All he could hear was a sick, grinding sound and the screaming of his people around him._

_Wait...his people?_

_He looked around. He was standing in the middle of a dirt street, sided with cold, stone and mud buildings that were destroyed. _

_Everything around him was burning._

_Why was everything burning?_

_Ryou spun around, trying to take in all that was around him. It looked alien, unfamiliar. This was not Japan. This was no place he'd ever seen before._

_He heard panicked, approaching footsteps, and someone shouting in a foreign language. Something hit his body, and suddenly he was being pulled down the street. He fumbled for vision, the surprise of it having knocked everything whirling._

_He looked up into a man's face, one with darkly tanned skin and deep, dark brown eyes. His sandy hair was shoulder-length and free. He was wearing a loincloth, nothing else._

_What was this place?_

_The man said something else, but Ryou couldn't understand the foreign language. The man seemed to take Ryou's incomprehension as shock, and led him down a side alley, sitting him down and shouting something else. Ryou nodded, not knowing what else to do, and the man took off running back into the street._

_He didn't get far, because Ryou watched in horror as men with spears and cloths worn as headgear attacked him and stabbed him to death. They barked orders to one another, and grabbed the body and began dragging it away._

_Ryou stumbled back, turning tail and running the opposite way from the brutal scene he'd just witnessed. Past that street he'd been in, between the buildings, was a maze of small alleyways, all connected but seemingly unconnected at the same time. Ryou took a left, in the direction that the men had gone._

_For some reason, he had to see where they were taking that body._

_His footsteps rebounded off of the building walls with every step he took. He only passed one person as he ran towards his unknown destination. It was an old man, one who was covered in what could only be described as a rucksack. His eyes were rolled back, a line of deep red across his neck. Blood had dried everywhere beneath the wound, and coloured the top of the brown cloth a glittering crimson. _

_Ryou wanted to throw up. This man, to avoid whatever was going on out there, had slit his own throat._

_It was sickening._

_He continued on, feeling the burn of pain and fear welling up deep within his core. His entire body was on overdrive. He couldn't help but think that someone would come for him, too. Someone would want to murder him, too._

_He didn't want to be part of that. He couldn't die. He had to live and tell the story of what happened here. He had to take revenge on those responsible._

_Ryou choked back the thought in surprise. These weren't his thoughts. He was thinking the thoughts of someone else._

_The wind seemed to whisper to him as it passed. It whispered words to him, but they were words he couldn't understand._

_The screaming intensified as he drew closer to the place where the horror was happening._

_The sound of screeching, that unnatural keening sound, intensified also. Ryou wanted to put his hands to his ears and make the awful noises stop, but his body said 'run'._

_So he ran._

_He turned into another alley, one that was only small enough for a child to hide in, and dropped to his knees near the mouth of it._

_A cauldron, a giant bubbling cauldron, sat in the centre of the street. And the soldiers, the men who he'd seen earlier, were hauling bodies into the cauldron._

_It boiled and hissed every time a person was thrown inside, and Ryou swore that he caught the sight of liquid dripping down the side. Liquid the colour of gold. It sparkled and drew him towards it, calling for him. It screamed his name._

_"Awful, isn't it?"_

_Ryou started at the sound, at the voice that spoke Japanese to him. Beside him was a boy, one dressed in a ragged top that reached his knees. Shaggy, white hair with an odd purple hue reached to his shoulders._

_It wasn't until the boy turned his face towards Ryou, however, that he was truly shocked._

_It took his breath away, because it was like looking into a mirror. The child looked like his identical genetic copy, only much younger. The face was cherubic, but there were distinct lines of age running through it. This child was marked by hardship, by pain and suffering and loss. _

_What he was seeing, most likely, was the cause of this._

_Ryou nodded, not knowing what else to do._

_"Are you a mute?" the boy asked, brow crinkling in query._

_Ryou blinked, shook his head, and then spoke embarrassedly. "No...I...I mean..."_

_"You're confused," the boy said finally, turning back to the horrific scene before them. A child had just been thrown in, one that looked about the age of this child. "We all are, really. I am. I don't know what to do. I'm very scared."_

_"You seen very calm, actually."_

_"I'm not sure why."_

_Silence fell, and Ryou turned his head away from the awful scene. The boy, the one who looked so much like him, was still staring._

_"My mother was thrown in not too long ago," the child whispered. "I wanted to cry, but I can't. All I feel is hatred."_

_Ryou wanted to reach out to the child, to comfort him, but he couldn't. His body remained frozen._

_Who was this child?_

_"What..." Ryou began slowly, "what is your name?"_

_The child looked surprised, and deep violet eyes met his for a brief second before flickering away, back to that chilling scene playing before them. _

_"I do not have one."_

_"You..." Ryou struggled to form a proper response to that. "You don't have a name?"_

_"No."_

_The silence descended for only a moment before Ryou felt the child's hand brush his own. He looked down, and then looked into those eyes. They were empty. There was nothing left, almost as if this child were soulless._

_If he had just watched his loved ones murdered, Ryou knew that he'd look the same way. He had looked the same way, all those years ago._

_The keening sound, actually, reminded him vaguely of the screeching of wheels. The inability to stop. The eventual crash. _

_"I can't offer a name," the boy whispered, "but I can offer my purpose. Will you be satisfied with that?"_

_Ryou opened his mouth, to point out that a name and a purpose were very different things, but the child looked desperate, so Ryou just nodded._

_The boy's eyes darkened, and the emptiness was abruptly replaced with a fire so strong and so dark, that Ryou couldn't keep contact with it. The child's face contorted into an awful expression of rage. He could almost feel the child's hate. It boiled over much the same way as the cauldron of bodies before them._

_"My purpose is that I will destroy this kingdom. I will kill Egypt's precious Pharaoh, and take the revenge that I am so owed. My soul cannot sleep until the blood of my people is satisfied."_

_The face aged, into one that was very familiar. The mirror-effect strengthened, until Ryou found himself staring into a reflection. _

_The only difference, however, were the eyes. The eyes that were the colour of blood, blood of the innocent killed without reason. There was a fire there, in those bloody eyes. The fire was familiar, and previously seen in eyes that were not red, but eyes that were a purple so fierce that it was burned into Ryou's memory._

_He raised his hand, to touch the reflection, but he was abruptly pushed back into darkness. A door slammed, silencing the screaming. _

_"Don't __**ever **__do that again."_

_And his world was encompassed with blinding white light._

Ryou woke to his bedroom ceiling.

That dream...

What was that dream?

His body throbbed suddenly, demanding attention.

He sighed. He must have been locked up for a decent time, because he felt stiff with overexertion. That always happened when the Spirit took over for extended trips.

Slowly, Ryou tried to force himself up. It wasn't as hard as he'd expected it to be, but that was probably because he was expecting to sit up and find that his ribs were broken. The Spirit was always off doing insane things that often got him badly hurt.

Ryou often wondered if there was much distinction between what the Spirit did and if he was just plain beaten. It wouldn't have much difference. He would still be bandaging broken ribs, all of the time. He would still be covering up bruises and wounds that he couldn't remember getting.

"You okay?"

Ryou jumped in surprise at the nearby voice, and turned his head to see Malik sitting in a chair, staring out of Ryou's bedroom window. Malik inclined his head towards Ryou, chin in palm.

Violet eyes.

Ryou gasped in shock, and suddenly Malik's face was replaced with a very young one, one with white hair and eyes that reminded him of an untameable purple flame...

"You okay?" the child asked.

"You..." Ryou began to say, but the face suddenly flickered out of existence, and Malik was there again, eyebrows raised in confusion.

"How long?" Ryou asked, his voice a little choked. Trying to seem less confused than he was, he kicked the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Due to the lack of pain, it seemed that he hadn't sustained any real injuries. He was just a little sore.

That was different.

Malik shrugged. "Only an evening."

Ryou's eyebrows shot up in surprise. That didn't sound like the Spirit - not at all.

_"My mother was thrown in not too long ago."_

_"Will you be satisfied with that?"_

A purpose.

_"My soul cannot sleep until the blood of my people is satisfied."_

_"Don't __**ever**__ do that again."_

But then, who was Ryou to know what the Spirit sounded like at all?

"All he really did was prowl around your apartment. He didn't leave or anything."

There was something in Malik's voice that made Ryou suspicious, and his attention suddenly shifted from the dream to his friend. He could feel that nagging little sense that Malik was leaving something out. It was like telling a timeline, leaving out exactly what happened.

"Malik," Ryou said slowly, eyeing the blonde apprehensively, "what aren't you telling me?"

Malik's expression turned guilty, and he averted his eyes.

Ryou stood up - noting to himself that he was, in fact, somehow dressed in fresh clothes - and approached his friend. "Malik. What happened?"

"Nothing!" Malik exclaimed, looking surprised. "No, no bad stuff or anything, it's just..."

Ryou waited patiently for an answer, staring Malik down as best as he could.

"We sort of...talked...about things." When Ryou's eyes narrowed, Malik rushed to continue. "I still think he's an evil, crazy monster, but...well, I can't tell you, Ryou. I really can't. He's going to kill me if I do."

Ryou's eyes widened, and he put a hand onto Malik's shoulder. "Did he threaten you?" he asked softly.

"Nah," Malik answered. "I'm just assuming that he'd kick my butt if I said anything, is all."

Now Ryou was very confused. Since when were Malik and the Spirit on even remotely friendly terms? He knew that they'd worked together during Battle City, but as far as Malik had alluded, their alliance had ended when Malik chose to give up on his revenge.

_"What...what is your name?"_

_"I do not have one."_

"Ryou?"

He blinked, into the sight of Malik waving his hand right in his face. Ryou cocked an eyebrow, as if to ask what Malik was doing.

"What, you can't talk now?"

_"Are you a mute?"_

Ryou started, and tried to cover it by shaking his head. "No...no, I can. I'm sorry. I'm fine."

Malik seemed unconvinced. " You don't look fine. You look really, really pale."

"I just..." Ryou stumbled to find an excuse. None came. "I had an...odd dream, while I was under."

_"Awful, isn't it?"_

Malik's eyebrows rose again. "What about?"

"Something..." Ryou trailed off.

_"I'm very scared."_

"Something awful. Something horrific."

Malik opened his mouth to ask another question, but Ryou silenced him with a sharp look.

"I'm going to get some breakfast," Ryou said, and he turned around and headed out of his room. He could hear Malik get up to follow him.

"Hey, wait a second, don't you have school today?" Malik asked, falling into stride with Ryou. The turn of conversation had completely averted his mind from the concept of Ryou's dream.

Ryou shrugged, making his way into the kitchen and beginning to pull various appliances out of the kitchen cabinets. "I don't know if I'll be able to go. Want to do something around town?"

"Won't you get caught?"

Ryou fixed Malik with a very deadpan look as he pulled some eggs out of the fridge. "Malik, I may not be a villain, but I've come to be an exceptional liar these past years. How about a western-style breakfast?"

"Like an American one?" Malik asked, and when Ryou nodded, he shrugged. "Sure. But still - do you really want to be exercising your skills in deception?"

"Why not?" Ryou asked, putting a pan onto the stove and cranking it up to an acceptable temperature. "How do you like your eggs?"

Malik blinked at the question. "I don't know, I don't usually eat North American-style breakfasts."

"Scrambled it is, then."

Ryou put some non-stick spray into the pan and cracked the eggs into a coffee mug. He threw the shells into the garbage and reached for some pepper, placing it onto the counter near the stove.

"So, why an American breakfast?"

Ryou went back to the fridge and pulled out some pre-cooked sausage patties. "My father prefers English and American-style foods to traditional Japanese breakfasts. I just don't think much about getting much else."

"No rice?"

Ryou grinned. "Of course I have rice - but Americans don't eat rice for breakfast."

"How do you know that? Maybe Canadians do."

That was it. Ryou began to laugh at Malik's insistence. Malik didn't look wholly impressed with being laughed at, and crossed his arms.

"Sorry, Malik. It's just...you're not even Japanese. Why are you so hung up on rice?"

Malik shrugged, letting a grin form onto his own face. "I don't know. For fun."

"Well," Ryou said, pulling out another pan and placing a few sausage patties onto it before heating up another part of the stove, "I've been to America _and_ Canada. They don't typically eat rice with their breakfasts. It's more of a dinner thing, with them."

"And in Japan, it's a bit of an everything thing."

Ryou chuckled. "That's awfully stereotypical of you."

"I don't care. Like you said - I'm not Japanese."

Ryou just smiled in response and continued cooking. "You can go watch TV, if you want," he suggested when he noticed that Malik was looking fidgety.

The blonde grinned in appreciation. "Don't mind if I do."

"I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise."

"Smart ass."

Malik turned tail and leapt over the back of the couch in Ryou's living room, settling himself down comfortably and flicking on the television with the TV remote.

Ryou continued going about making breakfast. It went about fairly simply, really. He and Malik only talked a few more times during the process, and no lengthily conversation happened until Ryou was finished. He had turned the stove off, made the plates, and turned around to see Malik pretty much salivating right behind him.

He decided that Malik looked more like a starving animal than a human being, in that moment, and told him so.

This resulted in them arguing their way to the table, sitting down, and arguing a little more.

"I'm sorry, Malik," Ryou said.

"Well, you should be."

Ryou chuckled in amusement at Malik's childish display. "Just eat. What do you want to do today?"

"I don't know. Any good arcades in Domino City?"

"Malik?"

"What?"

"It's _Domino City_."

Malik looked rightfully embarrassed. "Right. But still."

"There's one a few blocks away that I frequent," Ryou said, deciding that ribbing Malik was only going to result in a food fight, or something.

"Good, we shall go there," Malik decided, and began digging heartily into his dish of food. "Man, Americans know how to eat."

"It's just different from what you're used to."

"Whatever."

"And Malik?"

"Yeah?"

"You look sort of like a starving animal again."

"Oh yeah? Well you look like an albino, my friend!" Malik shot back heatedly.

_My friend._

Ryou couldn't help the warmth that rose up in his chest in that moment. It was in that moment that he felt something that he hadn't for a very, very long time. It was everything that he'd never been allowed to have. It was everything he'd ever wished for.

All Ryou could do was envelop himself in that warmth and wish that that modicum of normal would stay for just a little bit longer.

_"My purpose is that I will destroy this kingdom. I will kill Egypt's precious Pharaoh, and take the revenge that I am so owed. My soul cannot sleep until the blood of my people is satisfied."_

The child from Ryou's dream smiled, and held up a large, circular object. It was of Egyptian style, and glittered a blood-tainted gold.

End Chapter

Well, there you have it. Chapter four. It's not really meant to be this long mother*$# of a chapter, it's supposed to be...well...foreshadowing. I'm sure everyone knows what the dream was, but it's sure got Ryou confused, doesn't it?

Reviews are appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms!

OoCA


	5. Scorched

I know that this absolutely took _forever_, but I've been just agonizing over _Blood-Bound_ and trying to work out some...considerable kinks in the plot. Plus, school has been horrific and my personal life has had some problems that I needed to focus on. Writing hasn't exactly been priority lately, what with everything going on. I'm sorry about that, but this _is_ just for fun.

However, I am going to try my best to write more often come February, when the brunt of my...er..."situation" has passed. My classes change over, and I have a much lighter second semester than I did my first. Hopefully it'll give me some better creative time.

Provided my job doesn't decide to screw me over, or something. (sighs) Life sucks, guys. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

Chapter Five

Scorched

If there was anything that Ryou had learned from his time in Domino City, it was that high school was the most boring, life-sucking experience of his week.

He sighed, watching his teacher discuss the history of Japan. Most of the stories were things that he'd heard before. Japanese history had never really interested him, much.

He scowled. He knew exactly what kind of history he _was_ interested in. He also knew that it was something else's influence that caused that. Ryou couldn't stand the fact that even his interests were influenced by the _creature_ living in his head.

Plus, he was still concerned about what had happened between the Spirit and Malik. Malik had been deliberately vague on the details, and that had bothered Ryou more than just the fact of It taking over was.

Speaking of Malik, he had decided to hang around for a few days, but had to return home to both inform his sister of his whereabouts and pack the necessary articles for the duration of his stay. He'd probably be back when Ryou got home. Ryou was glad for that. He needed a friend to talk to, to _really_ talk to. Trying to approach Yugi was sort of impossible. The truncated duellist was particularly wary when it came to Ryou. Not that he blamed him any. That didn't mean that it didn't sting a little, though.

Still, he was going to definitely appreciate becoming better friends with Malik, hopefully, over the next couple of days.

Ryou sighed, his chin propped up in his palm. That was _hours_ away, though. He still had to deal with _school_, first.

Even worse, the aforementioned Yugi Muto was _staring_ at him. He could feel the young man's gaze on him. Every so often, one of his friends would whisper to him, they'd exchange muted dialogue, and then Yugi would go back to staring.

Ryou was almost positive that Yugi was worried about him. Ryou knew that he had to look completely worn-out. He'd looked like that all day. He hadn't slept a wink between both badgering Malik about his meeting with the spirit and worrying about said meeting in general.

He needed to find out what had happened. Malik could deny all that he wanted, but that didn't change the fact that the Spirit was _dangerous_ and that Ryou knew that fact better than anyone. He couldn't let Malik get involved with the Spirit. Not again. The last time, it'd led to darker places. This time, Ryou refused to stand idly to the side, unable to do a thing.

He didn't care that he'd been incapacitated at the time of that tournament. He still felt guilty for the crimes committed by his body, no matter who was controlling it at the time.

A ruler slammed down onto his desk.

"Mister Bakura," the teacher sneered, turning his gaze down in one of the most condescending expressions that Ryou had ever been on the receiving-end of.

Ryou gulped and turned his gaze away, hoping that his reputation for being shy and sickly would give him some back-up.

"I understand that you suffer from..." the teacher sniffed, "physical trauma due to your poor health. However, I don't like daydreaming and I do not play preference. Therefore, you will _pay attention_ in my class or you will serve detention. Am I understood?"

Ryou flinched. Harsh. That had been very harsh. Ryou wanted to stand up and tell the man just where he could go, a thought that made him wonder if he was spending too much time around Malik. Instead, however, he just lowered his head further and mumbled a sheepish apology.

Satisfied, the teacher strode back up to the front of the room and continued the lesson.

Eyes in the back of his head again. Ryou chanced a glance back.

Yugi was watching him, purple eyes bleeding slightly red. Ryou fought the impulse to comment. The Pharaoh was obviously interested enough in Ryou's behaviour, which was something that only made him much more uncomfortable.

It hadn't been until recently that Yugi had explained the nature of his own other half. A Pharaoh, they had figured out, one who could not recall his time alive.

Sometimes, Ryou wondered if his Spirit, too, didn't have any memories.

But Ryou refused to entertain the thought for long. He didn't want to think anything that could make the Spirit something that Ryou could sympathize with. Something pitiable. That was only bound to cause him trouble, nothing more.

_Are you okay?_ Yugi mouthed at him, subtly gesturing at the teacher, obliviously going about his lecture.

Ryou's eyes flickered to Yugi's notes and, with amusement, Ryou noted that he hadn't written a single thing down. Perhaps Yugi, too, shared his lack of interest in Japanese history?

_I'm fine._ Ryou mouthed back after a moment, turning sharply in his seat right after. He didn't want to get caught again. Any more embarrassment and his head was likely to explode. He hated having attention called to himself. It was one of the most unpleasant experiences that Ryou knew.

He sighed, putting his palm back in his hand. It was an unpleasant experience that was second only to high school.

Ryou just stared to the front of the room, waiting for the rest of the class to drain away.

By the time that the lunch bell had gone off, Yugi and Jonouchi had already started a tabletop duel at the far end of the classroom. Their teacher had left, for which Ryou was very glad, and the rest of the students had gone to get their lunches and do various break-time activities.

Ryou sighed. He hadn't bothered to pack a lunch. He hadn't had much of an appetite the last few days, and didn't want to waste any food. Instead, he just pulled out a book and prepared to waste the hour's time.

"Hey, Ryou," Anzu called from the small group around Yugi and Jonouchi's game, "want to join us?"

Ryou saw how happy they all were, how focused and excited and _friendly_ they were. Part of him yearned to say yes, but Ryou knew that any such happiness wouldn't be tolerated for long.

So he shook his head, pointed at his book, and apologized. "I'm not feeling very well today," he said as an excuse, "so forgive me."

"Hope you feel better," Anzu replied emphatically, throwing him a concerned, 'I'm not buying it' look, but not questioning him further. He wasn't surprised that his excuse hadn't fooled her. Anzu was, regrettably, one of the more observant of her group. She knew that Ryou was intentionally cutting himself off. Well, all of them knew, but Anzu seemed to be the only one silently resisting it.

Just as silently, Ryou appreciated her efforts. He truly did.

He listened as the duel continued on for a few more minutes. He heard Yugi win, and then declined Jonouchi's demand for a rematch. He smiled vaguely. It was nice to hear them all having fun.

"You're very troubled, lately."

Ryou nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the deep voice. His head snapped up, to where Yugi's yami was staring down at him with a pensive expression. He had won the tabletop game, apparently, and had left Jonouchi to challenge another classmate that Ryou wasn't familiar with.

Ryou dog-eared his page and frowned, averting his eyes from the spirit's intense expression. "I'm fine," he mumbled. It didn't even sound convincing to him, and from the expression on Yami's face, he wasn't too moved by it either.

"Mou hitori no boku and I are always willing to help, if ever you need it," the Spirit of the Puzzle said, and though his voice was quiet, it held more authority than Ryou could ever conjure up himself.

"Thank you," Ryou answered politely. He was still a little jarred by the fact that the Pharaoh had appeared in the middle of school.

The Pharaoh sighed, low and soft, before leaning back against the desk beside Ryou's. "Your trouble troubles us, too."

"I'm sorry for that," Ryou apologized quietly.

"Why should you be?" the Spirit of the Puzzle queried in vague amusement. "It is no fault of yours."

Ryou traced his fingers along the cover of his book. "I just...always seem to be troubling people. That or destroying their lives completely."

"_That _is no fault of yours, either."

"Sometimes I'm not always sure."

The Pharaoh frowned at that.

They were silent for a moment, before the Pharaoh let out a soft chuckle. "You should duel Yugi sometime," he suggested, referring to their tabletop-duelling lunchtimes, "if ever you feel so inclined."

"Hey, Yug'!" Jonouchi called from across the room. "Get back here and rematch me!"

The Pharaoh's intimidating figure vanished in favour of a bright-eyed young man. "Coming, Jou!" Yugi called back. He turned to make his way back to his group. He stopped on his way, grinning at Ryou, before racing back to his group.

Ryou smiled softly. Anzu _and _the Pharaoh, it seemed, were resisting Ryou's efforts.

He picked up the book, eyes moving along the top lines of the page.

_"And still, no matter how much time passed, the gravity of never reaching them, never being with them, was a burden that would never lighten in time."_

Ryou sighed. How fitting. It seemed that everything he did or saw or experienced all came back to the reality of what his life was.

It only made him hate everything so much more. The constant reminders were agonizing.

"You've always been good at pushing people away, haven't you?"

Ryou blinked up just as Ayumi plopped herself down on the seat in front of his desk. Her arms were folded against her chest, a bandage underneath the shirtsleeve of her uniform that she seemed to be touching every few moments. She was staring at him harshly, eyes focused with a sort of determination that got him a little worried.

Actually, it got him _very_ worried.

"How are you, Ayumi?" Ryou asked nervously, turning his eyes down to his book. He still felt awful after what had happened, that Malik had had to use Shadow Magic on her.

He hated the fact that she'd been exposed, even a little bit, to that world.

He glanced at her over the page of his book.

She shrugged, examining perfectly buffed nails. "Just fine, thank you." Her gaze turned sharply up to his for a brief second, but turned away just as quickly.

"Oh?" he queried softly, his voice barely registering to his own ears.

"Why?" she asked, blinking at him with a predatory kind of innocence. Red flags went up immediately in Ryou's mind. "Do I seem off, or something?"

"Um..." Ryou trailed off, not sure if broaching the subject was a good idea. After all, he couldn't just _assume _that it had anything to do with her being at his home two days before. It could be anything. She could have fought with her boyfriend, something could have been wrong with her family...

He couldn't just suspect any person that he came into contact with of having found something out about the Shadow Magic.

Ayumi's smile, following his stuttering, was nothing short of tooth-baring creepy. "Cat got your tongue?"

This was not normal behaviour. From the moment she'd sat down, Ryou knew that something was wrong.

She was still rubbing her bandaged arm.

Panic flared instantly. Had Malik lied to him? Had the Spirit actually gone out and done something to Ayumi? To Ayumi's friends or family?

If the Spirit had hurt another friend, hurt another person that was dear to him...

He steeled himself. He had to be sure.

"You seem..." he ventured, voice thick with confusion, "...upset."

Ayumi let out a sound that sounded more like an angry guffaw than a laugh. "Just a bit. Well, more peeved than upset."

"Peeved?"

"Yep," she said. "As in angry."

He almost felt his face go a few shades paler. "Angry?"

She laced her fingers together and propped her chin onto them, staring levelly at him. "Very angry."

"And...what has you so very angry?" Ryou asked, clenching his jaw. This game of questions was frustrating him. He needed to _know_.

"I just..." she trailed off, staring off to the side for a moment. Thought flickered across her face, as if she were considering something. It was brief, however, before the determination reappeared.

"I had hoped that you weren't going to lie to me, anymore," she murmured softly, the anger in her expression fading into hurt. "I thought that...that we'd sort of gotten past that, you know?"

The bottom of Ryou's entire world sort of dropped out in that very moment.

"Did that weird guy ever tell you," she said between clenched teeth, a grim smile that had no friendliness behind it, "that I said goodbye?"

Ryou's entire thought-process stopped.

She _remembered_ what had happened? She _remembered _all of it?

_"I remember Ishizu saying, one time," _Malik had said some weeks ago over a phone call, _"that certain normal people are more attuned to our magic. They can, like, sense us coming. Weird, huh?"_

Convenient was more like it.

"What did he do to me, Ryou?" Ayumi asked softly. "How did he make me leave?"

Ryou didn't answer. Instead, he stood up very slowly, stepping away from his desk. Taking his books in his hands, he backed away a few steps. Ayumi's gaze was unrelenting.

He couldn't do it anymore. Now that she was so obviously angry with him, so obviously sick with the very presence of him...he had to get away from her. He couldn't just stay and experience another moment of another _something_ that the Spirit had taken away from him.

So he took the easy way out.

"I'm sorry!" He shouted. All eyes in the classroom swivelled to him just as he dashed out of the classroom, eyes shut tight in a refusal to look back.

Looking back on what he'd lost wasn't an option anymore.

"Ryou! Ryou, wait!" She cried after him.

He didn't stop running until he got to his locker. Dumping his books into it, he wrenched his book bag out of the locker and slammed it shut. After locking it, he glanced back to see if she was following him.

He couldn't see her, but that didn't mean that she wasn't there.

_"How did he make me leave?"_

Ryou sucked in a breath and spun, running back down the hallway and out of the school. He didn't care if he missed the rest of class. It wasn't important. Not anymore.

What was important was that Ayumi had figured something out. She had pieced together that Ryou wasn't normal.

He wasn't sure if that hurt worse than the fact that she'd been exposed to it in the first place. Either way, it all boiled down to being _his fault_.

He could see people staring as he ran. It was fairly unusual to see a student, in uniform, running in the _opposite_ direction of the school during class hours. If he stayed out on the street, he was going to get told off by the cops, or something. The last thing he needed was to be forced back there.

His body had already figured it out, though. He knew exactly where he was taking himself.

His feet pounded against the sidewalk as he went, moving toward the only place where Ryou knew he could have peace. It was the place he'd always gone to, even as a child.

It took him twenty minutes from the school, but he got there. He was panting, breathless and exhausted, from his running. He practically stumbled into the place, and breathed out a sigh of relief as he felt the green drown him from his problems.

The park wasn't really anything special. It was small and out of the way, lurking at the edges of Domino City. There was a jungle gym for children near to the entrance, and a pathway framed by trees and shrubs and beautiful flowers as one kept going.

Ryou loved his park. Even when it was populated with families upon families, Ryou always could feel that sense of privacy when he was there.

He could feel like he was himself, not a freak with a psychopathic spirit from thousands of years ago living both in his head and in the artifact he wore around his neck.

Ryou could feel _normal_.

_"How did he make me leave?"_

_"I had hoped that you weren't going to lie to me, anymore."_

He made for the pathway, bypassing a preschool class on a trip to the park. A few teachers glanced his way, at his uniform, but none of them chose to say anything to him.

The path was quiet, completely devoid of people. He took a breath of relief, glad that he could really be alone. He needed it more than anything.

_Well_, a dark part of his mind thought, _I'll never be truly alone, now will I?_

He walked with slow, deliberate steps. His eyes wandered across the foliage, trying to force his head to go somewhere, _anywhere_ else. With frustration, Ryou noted that it simply was not working. Not at all.

He should have stayed. He shouldn't have run away like a coward, because now Ayumi had better ammunition than before. He could have lied his way out of it, he could have convinced her that what she was telling him was simply impossible. He'd seen her leave because Malik had told her that he needed to take his "medication."

He could have convinced her. He could have, but he hadn't. Thanks to that selfish decision, she was in more danger than she had been by simply knowing him, because now she knew that there was something _wrong_.

If she was smart, which he hoped that she was, she would be so mad at him that she wouldn't talk to him anymore. She would stay with her own friends, with people who were safe and normal, and she wouldn't keep trying to push the subject.

Ryou knew better than to hope for that. He knew what Ayumi was like.

There was a bench just ahead, and Ryou slowly made his way toward it. He turned and collapsed onto the hard surface, running a hand through his hair before leaning his elbows down onto his knees for support.

"I don't know what to do."

_"Cowardly child."_

Ryou froze.

No.

Not here.

_It_ just _couldn't _do this to him here! Had he not suffered _enough_?

A scoff, and a voice that was sickeningly familiar to him. It reverberated through his mind. _"You have suffered nothing. You have only reaped that which you have sewn, foolish landlord."_

As horrifying as the speaking in of itself was, a part of Ryou's mind had to note that it had to be the longest sentence that the spirit had ever spoken to him.

Ryou closed his eyes and bowed his head.

The Spirit didn't know anything about suffering, either. He had done nothing but cause suffering, after all.

_"You know nothing."_

Ryou gritted his teeth. He told himself to stop listening. The Spirit was only goading him. It..._He_ didn't want anything other than to destroy his mind. The Spirit liked him submissive. It wanted to break him.

There was a hissing sound in his mind, like a muted guffaw.

_"Don't flatter yourself into thinking I am so devoted."_

Ryou jumped up out of his seat. "What do you want with me?" he shouted aloud, balling his hands into tight fists at his sides.

He just wanted the Spirit to go away.

_"I cannot leave so easily."_

Ryou wanted to just cry. He wanted to break down.

He wouldn't though. He was too stubborn. This time, he wasn't going to give the Spirit what it wanted. He wasn't going to let it win, regardless of how much it punished him, once it took control.

_I need to get out of here. I need to walk around in public where I don't have to think. Where I can't let myself make a scene._

Ryou made a beeline for the exit of the path.

_"Child, you are utterly deceived." _The Spirit sneered, voice soft and deadly like a snake preparing to strike.

Ryou ignored the voice, picking up his walk into a jog, eventually pulling it into a run.

He was running. Again.

Did he do nothing but run away from the problems in his life? Was this really what he had come to?

He stopped running halfway down the street, however, when he realized that the presence had disappeared. It had receded back into the Ring, the object warming with the Spirit's existence within.

Ryou deflated immediately, and he would have dropped to his knees had he not found a lamppost to lean against. He sagged, hugging his arms to his body loosely.

The Spirit had just...retreated. It had left him alone.

As relieving as that was, the fact that It could go after Ayumi was terrifying. He would have to tell Malik to do whatever he could to keep the Spirit inside the apartment, if it took control.

But what if it hurt Malik?

Ryou covered his eyes with his hands, gritting his teeth and hissing out an exhale of frustration. He just couldn't win, could he? He always seemed to be caught between a rock and a hard place.

He had to get home. If the Spirit took control when he was in public...

...Well, then there'd be nothing that Ryou could do to stop him.

Ryou pushed away from the post and began to walk home, eyes on the ground as he went.

He didn't think that he'd be able to look anyone in the eye without seeing accusations of insanity in them. It always seemed sort of like people _knew_ that he was different, that there was something extremely wrong with him.

Perhaps it was just natural instinct to avoid that which was supernaturally connected.

Little did Ryou know, however, but that short connection with the Spirit would very quickly lead to something that Ryou had never imagined.

Somewhere within the recesses of the Millennium Ring, a devilish being shifted uncomfortably.

The Shadows were changing.

* * *

"Okay, I'm heading back."

Ishizu stepped out of the small kitchenette of their home, or rather, the place that was their new home, after they somewhat abandoned the Tomb. Malik was standing near to the door, putting on his shoes.

"So soon, Malik?" Ishizu queried, and Rishid appeared in the entrance beside her like a silent giant. She glanced his way for only a second, to acknowledge his presence, before turning her attention back to her little brother.

Malik stood and shrugged, hefting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. "Yeah, Ryou's probably wondering what's taking me so long."

"He's a polite child, and patient," Ishizu retorted, "so I doubt that."

She knew that she was missing something, and judging by the expression on Rishid's face, he wasn't buying the act that Malik had been putting on all day any more than she was.

"What's going on?" Rishid asked quietly, his deep voice soft and smooth. He always had a calming effect, for both siblings, and Ishizu saw Malik visibly deflate under the force of those three words. He'd always had a soft spot for his 'older brother'.

Malik chewed his lip, a bad habit from childhood, bore speaking in hushed, deliberate tones. "Sister, do you remember...an ultimate darkness that Father spoke of?"

"He spoke of many evils, Malik." Ishizu's eyes tightened at the painful memory of their father. She preferred not to pay mind to the past, anymore. It had brought nothing but agony to their family.

"But...what about the one that the Pharaoh fought?"

Ishizu's breath stopped, her thoughts freezing into place.

Then her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You have spoken with the Tomb Robber."

Malik looked away guiltily, crossing his arms in a failing attempt to seem contemptuous. "So what if I have?"

Ishizu should have exploded then and there. She should have yelled and screamed and forbidden him from visiting Ryou. She should have taught him a lesson, reinforced the dangers of Shadow Magic, and then let Rishid follow with his own disappointment.

Ishizu did not do that, though. She was a composed woman, a calm and calculating and careful person who did not lose her temper easily.

So she simply frowned. "Malik, you know what happened last time that you worked with that _demon_."

"I didn't mean to," he protested in a voice that was so calm, so full of thought and confusion, that it made Ishizu stop in her tracks. "He took Ryou over when I was hanging out at his apartment. Then..."

He trailed off, brow furrowing.

"Then...?" Rishid prompted.

Malik's expression turned pained. "I still don't know what to make of it. He...he just hung around the place. He didn't attack me, or do anything criminal or even use Shadow Magic. He just...sat around and acted like a jackass."

Ishizu inhaled sharply.

"He told me some...stuff."

She had to tread carefully. When Malik didn't know what to make of something was when he became the most secretive. "Like...what, brother?"

"He told me..."

Malik steeled himself, taking a deep breath.

"He told me that he had been freed after Battle City."

End Chapter

Short? True. Intentionally short? Also true.

This story is not supposed to have the same chapter length as the other one. It's encompassing a far...choppier timeline than the Hogwarts arc. Eh. It's hard to explain.

But we do see some more Malik action, in this chapter! And some Ishizu and Rishid!

I hope you enjoyed!

OoCA


	6. Invictus

Updates have been slow-coming, yes. I'm sorry about that. However, I entered my first year of university this past fall and had very little time between that and a part-time job. So I'm going to try and update a few times over Christmas holidays, but updates during the "school season" may be slim-to-none until I have more organized time management skills.

Chapter Six

Invictus

She knew.

_You lied to her. You lied to her and now you're dealing with the consequences of your own actions._

She knew that he was involved with something supernatural, something unexplainable. She'd never speak to him again. She hated him. She had to.

"_You have only reaped that which you have sewn, foolish landlord."_

The memory of the Spirit's voice floated across his consciousness, harsh and cold like a blade. Ryou hated it – him – whatever. The Spirit spoke as if it hadn't had any part in this. If the Spirit hadn't taken over his body when Ayumi was there, if it hadn't tried to screw up his life _again_, then he wouldn't be in this mess. The Spirit had no right to act all high-and-mighty as if it'd predicted this situation.

It was a monster. It was his monster.

_I hate you_, he thought viciously, hoping that the words would reach across his mind and into the Millennium Ring where the Spirit dwelled.

Ryou could have been imagining it, but he thought that he heard an echo of laughter.

He wouldn't be surprised. The Spirit was probably relishing in his victory, reliving the moment when Ayumi's eyes looked betrayed, the moment when she confronted him and their friendship was all but declared over.

The last friend that he could be normal with was gone. The last person with which he could play pretend, where he could act as if he wasn't the host of a sociopathic, supernatural killer. It was a world where he was just a student, a duellist, a games fanatic. He wasn't playing for his life, or losing consciousness for days at a time, or forced to push any friends away for fear that they would suffer a fate equal to death. He didn't have to be that person with Ayumi, not before, but now that had changed.

Why did everything have to change?

He turned over on the bed, flipping so that his face was smothered by the pillow. Maybe, if he stayed like this for long enough, he'd just die from suffocation.

Malik needed to get back. Ryou was starting to think that he was the only thing left keeping him sane.

"I want to be normal," Ryou whispered into the pillow, wondering if there were any gods up there who could hear him. Maybe he was just their favourite toy, something to use when they got bored. Maybe the gods played games with him, games like "let's see how fast he breaks when we ruin his life _this_ way…" or other taunts that made him grasp at hope for only seconds at a time.

He sighed and rolled back over with his face pointed to the ceiling. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Yeah, that might be a good idea."

Ryou sat up quickly, shocked by the sudden voice. Malik leaned against his doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin, arms crossed and eyes laughing.

He levelled a flat glare at his friend. Malik really needed to learn how to knock.

But when he opened his mouth, another voice's words came out. "Malik," a deep, rough voice said. It felt off when it came out of his throat.

Malik's jaw dropped, and he stumbled into the room with an expression of horror. "Y-You…?"

And it was in this moment that Ryou realized why he was feeling so strange.

He wasn't in control of his body; he hadn't been for a while.

Ryou felt distanced, as if his body was just out of reach. He tried to cry out, but his voice was muffled. He could see Malik, though. He could hear him. He could feel his body, but that body wasn't under his control. It moved without his will.

This was strange. This was wrong. He was never conscious when the Spirit took him over. This had never, ever happened before.

Panic set in. Was the Spirit going to hurt Malik and make him watch?

Ryou's body swung his legs over the bed, standing up with a slow grace that he didn't usually exude. His body crossed the room towards the mirror attached to his dresser. His fingers, a little longer than they usually looked, brushed against the glass. He saw his reflection, only with a sharper jaw and wilder hair. His eyes weren't brown anymore. They were…red. Red like a sea of blood.

This was what the Spirit looked like? This was the "other him"?

He looked like a monster. Even if red eyes could be explained away…Ryou saw them as a window to the evil. The subtlety of it made it even more monstrous.

"Ryou's going to freak when he wakes up and realizes what happened," Malik said quietly, glaring at the Spirit from under a veil of his bangs.

The Spirit turned away from the mirror. A laugh floated from his mouth. "I realize this, Malik."

"Why did you take him over?" Malik demanded. "I thought that…I mean, you said that-"

"I'm not going to do anything stupid, Malik," the Spirit snapped, crossing Ryou's arms.

"Does Ryou know that?" Malik pressed, taking a step towards the Spirit, his hands fisted at his sides. His eyes narrowed threateningly. "What's your issue with letting him know that-?"

"I don't want his trust," the Spirit snapped, and Ryou felt his face twist into a grimace of disgust. "I don't need it."

"You've seen the Pharaoh's connection with Yugi," Malik said. "Don't you think that you two would both be better off with something like that?"

Ryou's body jerked and he felt his fist clench tightly, nails digging into the skin of his palm. "Do _not_," this alien voice hissed, dark and strange and so unlike his own, "try to lump me in with that pathetic excuse for a King and his merry band of _fools_."

Malik's lips twitched upwards into a cruel smile that was characteristic of his Battle City days. "Don't like that?"

Malik was _goading_ the Spirit. He was testing its patience. Ryou expected the Spirit to retaliate by sucking out his soul or stabbing him with some kind of weapon or doing something equally as devastating. Ryou strained against his restraints, at whatever held him in this limbo. It didn't work. He couldn't break free and regain control. He was too weak.

He didn't expect the Spirit to sigh, sit down on the bed, and run a hand through his hair. "No, I don't," he said coldly, casting a moment's glance at Malik.

The physical reaction was so human; the words so composed that Ryou's mind froze in shock. Since when did the Spirit react in a non-violent way? It was unfathomable.

"I talked to my sister about you," Malik said out of the blue, his posture relaxing into something almost…companionable. It seemed almost like he was comfortable in the Spirit's presence.

And Ryou felt a small sting of betrayal. How could Malik be in league with the Spirit? He had called them _friends_. They couldn't be _friends_ if Malik was _friends_ with that _monster_.

It was impossible.

Ryou's body chuckled again. "The Seer who guards the Pharaoh's deep, dark secrets?"

"Yeah."

Ryou felt his body blow out a sigh, and the Spirit crossed Ryou's arms. "Well? What did you tell the Seer? I can't do that _mind control_ game that you have thoroughly enjoyed in the past," Malik winced, visibly affected by the Spirit bringing that up, "so you'll have to _tell_ me, mortal."

Malik's discomfort vanished and he rolled his eyes. "Come on. 'Mortal' this, 'mortal' that. I have a name, you know." The words were all snark, but there was a hint of humour there, something that Ryou found disturbing.

How could Malik do this?

"My sister worries that you're leading us on," Malik reported, a grin splitting his face. "Not that I didn't already suspect that, but you _did_ give a rather convincing argument. I was impressed."

The Spirit's energy hummed with irritation. "Get to the _point_, Malik."

"But she agrees that the situation you presented was…plausible. She wants to touch your mind and she wants it to happen soon. She cares for Ryou. I support her – he's my _friend_."

The Spirit's irritation diminished, replaced with a strange sensation of…placation. He was pleased? Why? Why was the Spirit pleased with having to prove loyalty? Wouldn't that foil his plans?

His world spun. What was going on?

He didn't know. He couldn't make heads or tails of this…this information. He needed to talk to Malik. He needed to.

Suddenly, the Spirit's body froze. Through his eyes, Ryou saw Malik hesitate and take a step forward.

"Hey, you okay-?"

Ryou pushed away from the body, trying to push himself backwards into nothingness. If he was in his Soul Room, where the Spirit so enjoyed locking him away, then he wouldn't have to think about this. He could escape it all.

He wasn't ready for…for something like the Spirit's _intentions_ or _history_. He just wasn't.

"_Ryou…?"_

And he broke the connection, whatever this was, and drew into the warmth of darkness.

* * *

"Hey, you okay-?"

Malik wasn't sure what that _look_ was for, but he didn't like that the Spirit seemed to be rather disturbed. His eyes were wide, his skin going pale, and he wasn't looking at Malik anymore.

If there was one thing he knew about the Spirit, it was that he liked making eye contact.

Malik chanced the risk and grabbed his shoulder. "Hey-!"

The Spirit blinked, eyes refocusing. "What are you on about?" he demanded, brushing Malik's hand away. He cleared some distance between them. He definitely wasn't into the whole 'physical contact' thing.

Malik didn't like the Spirit. He tolerated him. He accepted that…maybe he wasn't trying to screw them this time. But that didn't mean that he'd put up with the attitude for too long.

"Look," Malik snapped, "Ryou needs to-"

"The boy will not listen," the Spirit interrupted with heat in his voice and a scowl on his face. These moments of emotion, of real true frustration or annoyance or _something_…they were why Malik could let himself believe.

He'd been in cahoots with the Spirit for a long enough time during Battle City. He knew what the Spirit was like, the way that he held himself and spoke with harsh tones that had no real _person_ behind them.

When Ryou had fainted and been taken over that one night, that time that the girl had shown up, Malik had seen the Spirit. He had seen how differently _this_ Spirit acted. He was still cynical, cruel, and irritatingly self-involved, but he wasn't the same as before.

It was definitely as if someone had put a person in there. Suddenly there was a sense of cause-and-effect, an understanding of consequence and a frustration with that reality. The Spirit was frustrated with the fact that Ryou would not listen, or that Malik had quite nearly attacked him. He tried to act as if he didn't care, but even if there wasn't hurt or sadness in there, there was still that distinct feeling that the Spirit didn't _like_ how things were.

Not that Malik thought he would ever admit it.

The doorbell rang.

"_Damn_ it," Malik cursed under his breath. "Who the-"

"Most likely the female he was running from earlier," the Spirit pointed out, a shadow passing over his face. "She irritates me."

"Steal her soul and I'll break your face," Malik snapped. "Ryou is friends with her."

"She's too nosy," the Spirit sneered right back.

Malik stepped in front of the doorway, blocking the path. "If you hurt her, I swear to-"

"Oh, shut up," the Spirit snarled, shoving past Malik with a well-placed elbow and speed Malik didn't know he had. "I have no intention of hurting the woman."

Malik stumbled after him, rounding the corner to the doorway in the same moment that the Spirit wrenched the door open.

And Ayumi stood there, looking red-faced and wild-eyed. She had definitely been crying. Her uniform was rumpled and she was clutching a handkerchief that looked like it'd wiped off some serious makeup.

_Oh, boy, _Malik thought, stepping back away from 'Ryou' and hoping that the Spirit wasn't going to make this bad thing worse.

"Ayumi…" the Spirit began, hesitating and looking almost a little disgusted, "…ah…how…how are you?"

Her bottom lip quivered at those words. "_Ryou_, you _ran_ and I-"

It was about that moment when she noticed that Malik was standing there. Her eyes widened, she took a small step back, and Malik realized that she was…_afraid of him_.

She knew that he'd controlled her. He knew that look. After he'd done it to Anzu and Jonouchi, they'd both given him that look for a little while, too.

_Well, crap._

"Malik," 'Ryou' said softly, "can you go to my bedroom for a minute…?"

The begging, near-tortured expression was so indisputably _Ryou_ that Malik, for a moment, almost forgot that this wasn't his friend. The shock of the Spirit's acting skill, even if Malik had seen it before, made him turn on his heel and leave without a word.

And he had to trust that the Spirit wasn't going to screw this up for Ryou.

"Prove yourself," Malik murmured to himself, closing the door behind him and leaning back against the wood. "Come on, Spirit of the Ring. _Prove yourself_."

Malik waited for a very, very long time.

Finally, _finally_, there was the sound of a closing door. Malik jumped at the sound, flying out into the hallway.

The Spirit appeared then, having just closed the front door. His expression looked strained; his brow was drawn down and his lips were pulled thin.

"How did it go?" Malik asked. From the look on the Spirit's face, he almost didn't.

"I did what I was taught to never do," the Spirit said quietly, crossing the room.

Malik followed down the hall and stopped behind the couch. The Spirit sat in the armchair opposite to him, his fingers interlaced at his chin and his eyes unfocused.

Malik almost didn't want to ask the next question.

"Um…" he began. The Spirit looked up, fixing him with a very strange, neutral stare. "What…what did you _do_?"

The Spirit took a breath. "I did what had to be done. The girl knew too much."

Now Malik was starting to get worried. "What the _hell_ did you _do_?" Malik demanded, feeling his voice rising with frustration at the Spirit's ambiguity.

He smiled. Typically, his smiles were cruel. This time, however, the Spirit's smile was wry. "I told her the truth."

* * *

"He told her the truth?"

Malik winced, stepping back and putting his hands up as a barrier of surrender between them. "Ryou, look, I-"

"No, Malik!" Ryou shouted, spinning on his heel and pacing towards his window. "I can't believe that you _trusted_ it!" He stormed over to the sliding glass door and onto the balcony.

Malik followed. What else could he do?

"He's…" Malik hesitated, biting his lip. The Spirit had to do this part of the dirty work. Malik was not going to explain everything and do the Spirit's job for him. It would be wrong. It wouldn't change anything. Ryou had to hear it straight from the Spirit's mouth; from anyone else, it would be meaningless.

Ryou's fingers clamped down on the railing of the balcony. "I heard your conversation. I could _hear_ you two talking to each other." He glared over his shoulder at Malik, but his eyes held more hurt than malice. "Why are you still in league with him?"

"I'm not!" Malik exclaimed, running a hand through his hair. "Trust me, there's nothing…nothing _bad_ going on at all. I talked to him _once_, Ryou. When he took you over that last time, I spoke to him then. Never before, not since…not until today, I mean."

They lapsed into tense silence for a few moments before Malik walked over to the railing, still a few feet away from Ryou, and chanced a tentative glance up to his friend.

"What…did you hear?" Malik asked. "While you could…"

"While I could hear you?" Ryou supplied. Malik nodded guiltily and Ryou felt a wan smile curl his lips. "Something about your sister. I…blacked out after that, or something. Did the Spirit do that?"

Malik shook his head. "I doubt it. I don't think he knew you could hear us."

"That's…the first time it's ever happened," Ryou whispered. "Yugi's tried to explain it before…where both he and his yami were present, or something. If the Pharaoh had control, Yugi was still…observing it all."

"Yeah, something like that," Malik agreed. Yugi had explained it to him, too. It was because the nature of their bond was formed through cooperativeness and friendship. They could co-exist without one having to be suppressed.

Ryou stared out at the sky, feeling the cool wind against his cheeks. It was colder than he'd expected.

"Ryou…"

He glanced over at Malik, surprised by the conviction etched across his friend's face. He knew Malik. Malik wouldn't have been conspiring with the Spirit behind his back. Malik wouldn't lie to him.

"I'm sorry," Ryou said, heaving out a heavy sigh. He didn't know what to think, anymore. It was all too confusing.

Malik shook his head, his hair swinging from side-to-side. Ryou almost wanted to tell him to get it cut, but that would be a bit hypocritical, considering his own mane of hair.

He preferred it long. It made him look less like his father.

"No," Malik said, "don't be. It's my fault. I should have said something sooner. I should have made him…"

When Malik didn't elaborate, Ryou felt his stomach drop.

"What is it?" Ryou asked.

Malik sighed. "I think that you need to speak to him."

That hit him hard. Speak to the Spirit? _Speak to it?_

"It…he…" Ryou struggled for words, backing away from the balcony and towards the door. "You want me to…?" he shook his head, clenching his teeth. "I can't…no…no!"

Malik put his hands up in a gesture of surrender, waving them in a slow, downwards motion as if to calm him. "Hey, Ryou, no…you don't have to do it if you don't…"

"I can't!" Ryou shouted, gripping his skull. His head was starting to pound. He didn't have control over his own thoughts, anymore. The entire day, he'd been barely able to collect a single thought. What was he supposed to think when Malik had a suggestion like _that_?

If he spoke to the Spirit…what would happen? If what they were talking about was true, if the Spirit had truly changed somehow, then what did that mean?

Ryou didn't want a connection with the Spirit. He didn't want that.

He didn't want to think about the possibility that the Spirit could convince him otherwise. After everything, he didn't know how he'd handle that…if he could handle that.

And with that realization, Ryou felt something crack a bit. He had to get out of there. He had to find somewhere…someplace he could think.

So he did the one thing he was good at: he ran.

End Chapter


	7. The Price You Pay

**WARNING**: Mentions of SUICIDAL thoughts, and discussion of various opinions therein. The views expressed are not necessarily reflective of my own particular views. If this subject is sensitive, please read with caution.

Suicide is a very difficult subject, and if you or anyone you know struggles with it, it is best to seek professional help. Speaking from experience of losing a loved one in this way, such a subject is not one to be taken lightly.

I write about subjects of this nature because they are pertinent and very current problems. I gain no pleasure from discussing these things, but they are important and people do experience this kind of tragedy (or the thoughts that may lead to it). Again, please: **if this subject disturbs you, I beg of you, read with CAUTION.**

Chapter Seven

The Price You Pay

"Ryou, wait!"

Ryou had run. Of course Ryou had run. Malik cursed viciously, gnashing his teeth together. God, could he not do this right?

And for the love of the Gods, it was pouring out there. Ryou could not have picked a worse time to go and freak out.

But again, of course he had freaked out. What was Malik thinking when he suggested Ryou _speak_ to the spirit that had been tormenting him for God-knows-how-long?

He was in way over his head. He was fumbling around, trying to fix something that hadn't ever been whole in the first place. It stood a good chance of never being fixed. Malik doubted that the trust, the understanding, the _link_, would ever be there. Ryou had been through too much.

Malik swore again, and grabbed the coat he'd been smart enough to bring. He shoved it on, almost certain that he was still going to freeze his ass off, and stormed out the door.

Perfect. Just bloody perfect.

* * *

Ayumi had never been a girl of many fears. Even in childhood, she'd been the first kid over the stream, the first one through the dark doorway, and the one leading the pack when they went out alone.

That said, it was this lifelong lack of fear that resulted in poor coping skills when she found herself indisputably and intensely afraid.

Her fingers twitched to her pocket, where her cell phone sat. She wanted to make a call. She needed to make a call. Well, she needed to make two calls, actually.

Her boyfriend was at work – he did some part-time work on the side after classes, because they allowed that at his school. His family didn't do as well as most, and they needed his help. Ayumi had always been so proud of him, so grateful to be with someone so responsible and driven. Right now, it just sucked. She wanted to talk to him. She wanted to tell him about what happened. Even though he'd asked that she…

…but she didn't know what else to do. Ayumi kept no secrets from her boyfriend. It was why they had lasted so long: total disclosure no matter what. Mistakes could be forgiven, but lost trust was a tough thing to get back.

Her mother had always said that.

Ayumi took in a shaky breath and pulled her phone out of her pocket, scrolling down the list of names. There was one that she paused on, very early into the list.

_Bakura, Ryou_

Her throat tightened, as if something were strangling her. She let out a choked noise and slammed the phone shut, tossing it onto the cushion beside her. She couldn't make that call. Ayumi wasn't sure if she could ever make that call.

"_I apologize," he said, gesturing for her to sit at the couch, "for the reaction earlier today."_

_Ayumi opened her mouth to say something, but then glanced down the hallway. Ryou paused; he scrutinized her for a moment, then seemed to read her expression and smiled softly._

"_He can't hear us."_

_She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She didn't trust his friend. She knew what had happened to her. She remembered what he'd done. Even if she couldn't explain it, she knew._

_Ryou sat at the seat opposite to her. She took the hint and sat at the couch, rubbing her arms. She'd forgotten her coat in her locker, and it had gotten chilly. It was almost dinnertime, and she still had to get back to the school before she went home. Her parents were going to murder her._

_But there were more important things to worry about. _

_Ryou closed his eyes, his fingers interlaced in his lap. He looked so serene, as if he hadn't run from her at school, as if he hadn't looked so betrayed in that moment before he'd vanished._

"_You want answers."_

_No dodging. No pretense. In a way that Ryou had never operated before, he had laid it out straight and offered her the door…so, without hesitation, she opened it._

"_I want to know what he," she glanced back to the hallway, "did to me."_

_Ryou opened her eyes. When this happened, however, she almost thought that his eyes looked redder than they did brown. She wanted to convince herself that it was just the light, but his hair seemed wilder, his jaw sharper, and his expression just a bit too cold._

_This other Ryou stared at her with a strangely unguarded expression, his face clear of all fear or concern. She didn't recognize this face. "You must understand that you are only allowed to know due to your recognition of the event."_

"_That's not normal," she supplied. The shaky words were already out of her mouth by the time she realized just how scared she actually was. _

_How could she say "that's not normal"? Of course it wasn't normal. Clearly Ryou noticed the bizarreness of her statement, because he was watching her with something that almost resembled amusement. The emotion was too reserved, though. It was too controlled._

_Ryou was cautious. Ryou was careful. Ryou tried to hide his emotions all the time. One thing Ryou was not, however, was a young man able to do it well. This person, however, was perfectly composed. She saw only what he wanted her to see. There was nothing revealed in this face that hadn't been already decided for her viewing pleasure._

_This wasn't Ryou. It couldn't be._

"_No. I'm not."_

_Ayumi jerked backwards, eyes widening. She'd said that aloud._

_He smiled. "And no, I am not a brother, relative, or strangely identical stranger." He scrutinized her for a slow moment, making sure that he had her gaze. She shivered. It made her feel like a science experiment. "This is Ryou's body. I am the Spirit that dwells within the Millennium Ring that he possesses."_

_That was a bit difficult to digest. Scratch that: impossible to digest. Was he on drugs? Was that why he was so weird, the other day?_

_Of all of the questions in her head, only one surfaced completely, lifted from the scrambled mess her head had become._

"_Why are you telling me this?" she whispered._

_Ryou's…no, the Spirit's smile vanished. "Because there is no other choice but to do this," his shark-grin returned. "Or I could always dispose of you…whichever you would prefer."_

_This was impossible. She'd stopped believing in the supernatural years ago. She'd long given up on that "something out there" idea. She would not let herself fall into that trap. _

_Ayumi stood quickly. "I should really go."_

_Ryou stood too, looking much more intimidating than she could recall him ever being. "This is not something that you are to freely express," he told her._

"_I get it," she snapped. "I'm not stupid. I figured that much out."_

_His mouth popped open in surprise. "You don't actually believe this," he deduced quietly, and there was a glimmer of expectation in his gaze. As if he'd known how she'd react. As if he'd already had the entire course of the conversation played out._

"_I don't believe in the supernatural," she said, averting her gaze._

"_I see."_

_She lifted her head, taking a deep, cleansing breath. "However," she said, "I want to believe that Ryou wouldn't spin a crazy tale to cover up…whatever happened. I want to believe that this is the only way to explain what happened. God knows I can't."_

"_No Gods will save you now that you are aware," he quipped darkly, and she could clearly see the colour difference between Ryou's warm eyes and this person's alien gaze. They were nothing alike._

_Ayumi could, for the moment that they held each other's gaze, make herself believe. If only for the hope that this cruel stranger wearing Ryou's face was something else entirely and not, in reality, her friend._

_She quickly drew her hands behind her back. They were shaking again. Stupid hands. _

"_I'm going home," she said suddenly, and the Spirit looked vaguely surprised._

"_Just like that," he mused, looking at her as if he were asking if she wanted anything more from him. She'd already, after all, managed to glean the truth from him. What more could he give her? She certainly didn't know, nor did she want to know._

_She took another deep breath. "I got the answers I came for," she answered plainly, logically. The words sounded harsh and scripted even to her own ears._

"_And you would not like to know anything further," he supplied, nodding to himself. "Interesting."_

"_I'm not a science project," Ayumi snapped._

_His eyes raked over hers as if he were debating that statement. "Of course not," he settled on saying. She wasn't sure if she believed that he meant it._

"_I'll…" she hesitated, searching for words and finding it difficult to muster any. "I'll see you…I mean, Ryou…at school."_

_She didn't give him a chance to say anything else. She was out the door and down the hallway faster than an arrow from a bow. Her body felt heavy, like it'd suddenly been saddled with a burden too much for it to bear._

_In a way, that was true. Ayumi couldn't explain mind control. It wasn't hypnosis, it wasn't anything scientifically possible. So when Ryou…no…that Spirit sat her down and told her that there were things beyond her wildest imagination, things that were the stuff of fairytales and science fiction manga, Ayumi could offer nothing else but belief; belief that it was true, belief that Ryou was involved in this magic, belief that her friend was part of a world she'd stopped believing in as a child._

_She shuddered, her hand twisting in her shirt, her other hand clawing for the door to the stairwell. She burst through the doorway and stumbled her way down a few steps._

_Ayumi barely made it down a single flight before her legs gave out. She curled up there, in the concrete stairwell, and let herself mourn two possibilities: one, for the loss of a friend because of his elaborate lies…or if he was telling the truth, for all of the innocence that had been stolen from her._

Ayumi was jolted out of her reverie by her phone buzzing beside her. In a frantic daze, she scooped up the phone and fumbled with it, somehow managing to get it open and to her ear.

"H-Hello…? Who is it?"

"_Ayumi-chan…?"_

The familiar voice nearly melted her. Her thoughts scrambled again, but in a totally different way. Jeez, she was such a girl, sometimes.

"Oh!" She gasped eventually, glad that her boyfriend couldn't see her embarrassed flush through the phone line. "Shuu-_kun_, it's you!"

"_Of course it's me," _he scoffed, but she could hear the humour in his voice. _"What, expecting someone else? Should I be jealous, Ayumi?"_

She giggled. "No. No one else. Only you." She smiled, feeling warmth rise in her chest. "It's only ever been you."

"_Even when we were kids, and you'd beat me up on the playground?"_

"Even then," she answered, smiling. Sometimes, it amazed her how long they had known each other. They truly were childhood sweethearts, even if they hadn't explored romance until high school.

His responding chuckle was throaty and calming. _"You sounded confused when you answered my call. Is everything okay?"_

She hesitated. _Is everything okay?_

"_Ayumi…?"_

She must have taken too long to answer. Shuu sounded worried. "Oh! No, I was just…um…well, I thought you were at work, and I don't get many calls, so I was wondering who it was."

The excuse sounded weak even to her own ears.

"_They let me off early. We were really slow at the restaurant, and Yuki-san prefers not to keep us on schedule when we don't have much to do."_

"I hope that she's good to you," Ayumi murmured. Shuu's last job, the one he had taken when he first moved, had been brutal. She'd been on the phone with him every night, listening to the horrible abuses his employer put him through. Eventually, he'd quit out of frustration and being sick of it. He'd only picked up this new job a month ago. So far, she'd heard very little negativity about it.

"_She's a crazy obaa-san sometimes, but she's an old friend of my dad's, so she can't be all bad, right?"_

"Right," Ayumi agreed with him.

There was a pause from his end, and then: _"I got your text, from earlier. You wanted to talk to me about something?"_

Ayumi blinked. She had forgotten that she'd texted him right when she got home. She had told him to call her, she needed to talk.

"_Are you sure everything is okay?" _Shuu ventured, his tone trembling over the line.

"I…" she began, but found herself unable to continue.

Was this right? Shuu was her boyfriend, and maybe they'd even be together forever, but did she have the right to betray Ryou's trust that way? Sure, he'd been distant, but Ayumi was pretty certain she was one of the few friends he had.

Her thoughts turned to Yugi. Was Ryou friends with him, and his friends?

No. There was companionable understanding between them, but she'd noticed a distance, too. Maybe it had something to do with 'the Spirit'.

She shuddered.

"I just missed you," she offered weakly, her voice pathetically small. It wasn't convincing. The long silence on Shuu's end said that he wasn't buying it, either.

"_Ayumi, what's wrong?"_ he demanded, his voice rising in urgency. _"Did someone hurt you? Do I need to beat the crap out of some guy?"_

If Shuu found out about this, would he do something to Ryou? Would he make sure that Ryou kept his distance?

Shuu would want to protect her. He wouldn't see this as anything but a threat to her safety.

But Ayumi didn't know if she shared that sentiment. She still needed to find out for herself. Maybe that was pushing it, maybe that was stupid of her, but she felt that she owed it to Ryou. She owed this Spirit nothing, but she owed it to Ryou.

She'd been trying so hard to be his friend for so long. She couldn't give up now, now that such a big wall had come down between them.

Did Ryou even know that she knew? Could he communicate with…whoever it was that possessed him?

Ayumi stopped. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and made her decision.

"I flunked a test," she said to Shuu, adding just the right tremor to her voice. "My parents don't know, yet."

"_Oh,"_ he replied, sounding relieved. She felt bad for worrying him.

She felt worse for lying to him, but it was a price she had to pay.

* * *

Ryou's shoes hit the wet concrete, and he took off at a sprint. He had to get away. He had to go faster than ever, so that Malik couldn't catch up to him. His heart was pounding, a thunderous roar in his ears. His muscles pumped painfully with the strain.

He would run forever. He could run forever. Could he run forever? A million thoughts raced through his mind, changing with every slap of his shoes on the ground. The rain came around him, but it wasn't heavy. He barely noticed it, really.

Above the clamour of his mind, he could only clearly ask one thing:

_When will I ever stop running?_

It wasn't even about Ayumi. Well, it was partly about Ayumi, but it was mostly about facing the _thing_ that ruined _everything_ that his life could have been. Ayumi was just the tip of the iceberg, just the newest person who had been ripped from his life, for nothing more than wanting innocent friendship.

At least she hadn't vanished.

How was Ryou ever supposed to live when he couldn't do so without fear of destroying every person in his path? Ryou couldn't bring himself to stop caring about others – he would never become that kind of person. He just couldn't do that.

So what did he do? Stop living?

He skidded to a halt in the middle of the street. The rain was just a bare misting now, not even enough to soak through his shirt. His head dropped back, exposing his face to the sky.

_Stop living. _

Yeah, right. The first time he tried it, the Spirit would stop him. It wasn't going to get rid of its plaything that easily.

Would it, though? Would it be able to stop him?

Ryou didn't know. He'd never felt this…lost, before. He'd never really pondered the concept of his life ending, because it just wasn't something that a boy his age did a lot of thinking about. Sure, he'd had a rough go of things, and sure, lots of kids killed themselves over less…

…but Ryou had never entertained that possibility. His father was so against it, he'd always been vocal if it came up on the news.

After losing Amane, his father had never been very patient with the idea of a child taking their life. It was a foreign concept to him – something that no one would ever do, because losing a loved one to accident was hard enough.

He glanced around. Beside him, there was a small playground area. He turned towards it, heading for a bench opposite the rickety-looking swing set. Ryou didn't even know where he was, by this point. His legs ached at the promise of release, alerting him to just how long he must have been running.

When he got to the wet bench, he sagged onto it, not worrying about the fact that this was going to leave his legs wet and his walk home – if he ever decided to walk home – rather uncomfortable. It didn't matter to him.

What would his father do, if he came home to find that Ryou was gone? Would he be angry? Would he be sad? Would he just throw himself back into his work, even harder this time, and work himself into his own grave?

Ryou didn't want to hurt his father. For all of the fatherly things the man wasn't, Ryou didn't know anything else. He could never bring himself to strip his father of the only family he'd been left with. Wasn't their family marred with enough tragedy, already? They had been hurting for so long. Ryou couldn't imagine prolonging that.

But wasn't he justified, this time? Didn't he have a good reason? Wouldn't it be worth it, to gain some semblance of peace?

"_No."_

The voice made him nearly jump out of his skin, and at first, he frantically looked around for the speaker, afraid he'd said something out loud.

Then, with dread that sunk through the pit of his stomach, he realized from where that voice had come.

"You don't know anything," Ryou hissed aloud, surprised by the harshness in his own voice.

There was a pause – if Ryou didn't already know that the Spirit was incapable of being surprised, he would have thought it was hesitation. The Spirit was probably just milking this, preparing to drop some kind of emotional bomb that would send Ryou spiralling into upset for another week. Maybe even push him off the deep end, just to see what would happen.

So Ryou was utterly shocked when the response was soft. Empathetic, even. _"Violent action gains no peace."_

Ryou's heart thrummed like a hummingbird in his chest. Why was the Spirit saying this? To what end? Its response bewildered him beyond logical thought. It had never spoken to him in this way, before.

"Hypocrite," Ryou whispered eventually, his voice breaking. His mind buzzed so loudly that he couldn't manage further words.

There was silence for a very long time. Then: "_I am."_

Ryou sucked in a breath, feeling his entire body begin to shake. He pulled his knees up to his chest, and he sat there in fetal position, his head against his knees and his entire body wracked with convulsions of fear.

He knew what came next. Next came the laughter, then the blackness, and then he'd wake up in his own room with barbed wire cuts on his body and some new object lying about. Maybe even with a note, explaining what had happened. The Spirit was too cruel to leave him completely in the dark about his body's actions.

It was always mind games. Ryou was tiring of them.

"Ryou!"

His head jerked up, and he looked around blearily, his eyes unfocused and his breathing still erratic. Someone approached, and as his vision cleared, he realized that Malik stood in front of him, hesitant and worried.

"Ryou…you okay?" the blonde-haired Egyptian queried softly, looking guilty and upset and concerned all at the same time.

Ryou inhaled shakily, gritting his teeth. He tried to even out his breathing, tried to calm his shaking body, but it wasn't working. He shivered, suddenly cold.

"M-Malik," he whimpered, "the Spirit…it…he…_spoke to me._"

First, the control without doing anything – to which Malik was a witness…bizarre, it'd never happened before. Then, Ryou seeing the Spirit control their body…so strange. Now, the soft speaking, as if speaking to a child that you had upset, revealing of something that almost resembled…

…that was almost _human_.

"What do you mean?" Malik asked with some difficulty, his eyebrows drawing down in confusion.

Ryou shook his head, his breath hitching, and then he dropped his head back between his knees. He didn't want anyone, especially Malik, to watch him as he cried.

End Chapter

Sweet Jesus, I put that boy through a lot. But perhaps things are to be looking up, soon? Hint-like hints are hinting…

I felt that Ayumi's reaction needed resolution. She's had a big part in this story, bigger than I'd initially expected, but I felt that last chapter left her feeling very impersonal and I didn't like that.

I've always sworn that I wouldn't write OC characters, but I didn't see any of Yugi's gang fitting into this story the same way that an outsider would. Ayumi was just the tool I needed to swing certain things into motion.

Don't worry, this is the bulk of her relations to the story. Her role will drop substantially, soon.


End file.
